The Heir Of Night And Terrors
by Princessdarkness12
Summary: Prince Jacob must help his father Stannis navigate the game of thrones again. They must battle their most formidable enemies yet, in order to be a step closer to the Iron Throne, will the bond between father and son strengthen in this phase of the war or will they be pulled a part by their enemies? (2/2)
1. The Faithful Knight

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own ASOIAF/GOT. This is the sequel to The Stag of Dragonstone. There might be some grammatical errors and mistakes, as I am not the best writer in the world.  
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 **P.S: Sorrell Grimm is an original character of mine, but House Grimm is a real house. I choose the name Jacob because I wanted one that had religious meaning, as it formed his devout faith towards the Seven. The story is more book orientated, and I hope you guys enjoy the short start to the awaited sequel.  
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* * *

 **Chapter One – The Faithful Knight**

In the cold, musty winds of the Wall, a knight sat among the others. The brothers of the Watch were training, for the war ahead and how the fate of the world will be decided. It was the coldest place in the world, and the knight was lucky to survive.

Ser Sorrell Grimm of Greyshield was among the men, who made it to the Wall to save the Night's Watch from the wildings, led by the King Beyond the Wall, who was now a prisoner of King Stannis, and didn't have much time left on this Earth.

The knight of the Reach was alone; he usually was close with Prince Jacob. He saved his life, and brought him back to his parents, which got him a knighthood and a position on the King's war council, only because the prince said so.

His dark hair was shorter. He had it cut because of the cold weather, and how it wasn't good for his hair. Being from the south, and being in the North made Sorrell a bit grumpy and hostile, as he wasn't used to such conditions.

" _ **This weather is going to kill me faster than a sword sooner than later. I am here because of my prince, and I have to protect him. Maybe, when the war is over, I can have a place on the Kingsguard, but it will be complicated because it's a profession dedicated to the protection of the king and I will be his guard, not his friend.**_

Throughout this journey to the wall, Sorrell and Prince Jacob grew closer, as any good friends would.

He was the only one keeping the prince from falling apart, because he missed his mother Queen Selyse and sister Princess Shireen; they were at Eastwatch by the Sea, under the protection of several of the Queen's Men left behind.

It made Sorrell look at himself deeply, and how possibly betraying his family would affect him, and how the war will end with them being dead for being Lannister and Tyrell supporters, as Stannis Baratheon doesn't know the meaning of mercy or forgiveness.

As a man from the south, Sorrell didn't like the king much, but only tolerated him for the sake of his son and heir, who he liked very much, and would sacrifice himself for him, because who would in this den of people with unknown motives and schemes.

His eye caught on Ser Justin Massey and Ser Richard Horpe, two men who were loyal Queen's Men, and men he didn't like very much. Sorrell knew these men were hoping to suck up to the king for some lands and fortunes from dead houses.

" _ **Stupid fools, as long as the prince has influence over his father. Those men wouldn't get a single gold dragon from this war."**_

Sorrell knew ambitious men, because he lived with them and was the son of one. Men who would give up their morals and principles for a bit of power and fortunes, but he was no such man because he had given up his own ambition to serve Prince Jacob.

The cold winds were frosting on his furs, in which were in the darkest of colours. It didn't keep him warm enough, as he was still cold and felt like the cold creeped into the deepest parts of his flesh.

The knight had his sword by his side, as it was made of good steel. Sorrell maybe a knight, but he was still a man from a highborn house, and had a name in the Seven Kingdoms. He accomplished thing his own male relatives wouldn't have done.

Fighting against wildlings, sailing a ship to keep a valuable man out of Lannister hands and was pretty good at what he could do.

Sorrell rattled his mind on the recent meetings with the King, Prince and the new Lord Commander.

The boy Jon Snow wasn't bad, but his bastard status plagued the poor boy wherever he went. He had the colouring of his Stark father, but he trusted Prince Jacob's opinion of him being good and trustworthy to their cause.

* * *

Unlike a certain Red Priestess, Prince Jacob's advice for his father was logical, realistic and his father listened to him, as fathers should do with their sons from time to time.

"Grimm, shouldn't you be with the prince?" Ser Justin said, walking past him, as the man was also alone.

"His Grace needed a break, the meetings with the Lord Commander were draining him." Sorrell replied.

"The prince should learn how to be a king, and not hide behind you." The other knight said bitterly.

"He is already a better king than the brat Tommen."

"At least you said something that makes sense, Grimm." Ser Justin said, folding his arms cross his chest and trying to make himself look bigger than he actually was.

Sorrell of House Grimm didn't hate him, as much as he hated Horpe. Massey was a decent fighter, and they don't make them as they used to anymore. He was fun to play with, because most of the worshippers of the Red God were bitter and cold folk.

"We could be great friends, if you didn't dislike me for my loyalty to the Seven."

"Typical Reach man, always holding onto such faith, even when the Lady Melisandre has proven R'hllor's power among us."

"Listen to the Red Woman any longer, and she might have you eating the bodies of the burned men next."

"Are you mocking me, Grimm?"

"No…..telling the truth."

"Others of the Queen's Men would like to see you burned alive."

"Only if they were brave enough to kill me themselves, and face the wrath of the Prince."

"You maybe a Prince's Man, but the King's Men think you are one of them."

"Think what you want, ser. The truth is the Prince doesn't like you, and others of the King's Men would like it if most of you stayed with the Queen."

"Keep your Seven corrupted bias to yourself, man of the Reach." The knight said, and began to walk away.

Sorrell didn't mind having Massey around, because he didn't have many friends, a part from those of the King's Men who had the bigger numbers at Castle Black. It was nice to be among men, who still worshipped the Seven, even though not all did.

" _ **The prince must be waiting for me, he is alone with his grim-faced father and the boy commander. He will need me more than ever now, because this war is going to take us into the heart of the North, and a lot of men will not survive the storm."**_

For the knight of Greyshield, Sorrell had his first taste of the battlefield, and hungered for more, because it was in a man's nature to fight and kill, not be hold up in a castle, as many lords of the Reach liked to do, when a war came.

He wanted more.

He wanted a taste at a real war. A war when men gave their lives by the sword and the shield, not the war of politics and scheming. It was not his avenue, but he was willing to be the man, who served his prince well.

Through the last few days, Sorrell had seen Prince Jacob change. He had grown from a defeated boy into a strong, capable man who began to look a lot like the late King Robert, by some of the men who had seen the late king, whilst he was still alive.

Most will deter true loyalty in the hearts of men, who are true and honourable, as those kind of men were a dying breed in Westeros.

As long as Sorrell lived, he was there to service Prince Jacob, and be there for him when he needed it. Lord Davos was away on a diplomatic mission on the king's orders. It made the prince's time at the Wall hard, and he struggled emotionally, but he didn't show it.

Sorrell's heart pained, when he saw the prince secluded and miserable, it was evidenced he missed Davos; he looked up to the Onion Knight, as the second father figure in his life. And missed the man a lot more than he let on.

" _ **The prince doesn't have any friends, other than myself and Jon Snow. He has lost them all to this war, and I am afraid he will close himself up forever. He is the kind of man, that doesn't share his feelings very much, and will have that wall behind his emotions."**_

The knight stood and watched some of the black brothers training, and them clashing swords with one another. He smiled, as he didn't know how these men could live in these conditions and still fight evil day in and day out.

It was something Sorrell admired about such men. How they are willing to die by their oaths, and will never turn back from their duty to defend the Wall and the realm of men, from whatever was behind the wall.

A bigger war was coming ahead, and it wasn't over some ugly chair. It was about life and death, and how those in Westeros will have to band together to even make sure there is a world left to live in.


	2. Stannis I

**A/N: The second chapter is here, and it was quite a struggle, but it's here.  
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* * *

 **Chapter Two – Stannis I**

Stannis Baratheon, the rightful King of the Andals, the Rhoynar and the First Men and the true Lord of the Seven Kingdoms was in the King's Tower waiting for his son and heir Jacob to show his face, as he has a lot to discuss with him, and the new Lord Commander of the Night's Watch.

The king's eyebrows were arched, and he was sorting through the many rejection letters from most of the Northern houses. He wanted their armies pledged to him, and for them to swear fealty to him, as the true King of the Seven Kingdoms.

Stannis couldn't afford to look a fool in the face of such vital decisions in the coming days. With the continuation of the war, to find a Northern wife for his heir and to seize the throne he has converted, since this war began.

" _ **I want to meet the Northern girl, who will be our son's wife. You may choose the girl, but I want to be at his wedding, no matter what you or your lords say."**_ The king remembered the words his wife and queen Selyse said, moments before the Battle at Castle Black.

The battle was gruelling, due to the cold conditions of the North, and how the remains of his army came from the south. Jacob proved himself to be a capable warrior, a leader and an able commander worthy of his father's trust.

Stannis knew the severity of the situation, and how Selyse and Shireen will not be able to attend the eventual wedding, because they were such safer at Eastwatch by the Sea, where they won't be in fear of their lives because of Bolton or Lannister loyalists.

" _ **Robert and Renly were better suited for organising weddings and feasts, but Jacob is my only son and I want the best for him. Coming with the gold and expenses for the war, the men and the resources for the eventual winter will be difficult to acclimate, unless I marry Jacob off to a northern house with wealth and status."**_

The wedding was something Stannis didn't have time for, as his mind was focused on the war and scrubbing the North clean of Ironborn and the Boltons, who hold it for his true enemies; the Lannisters.

On the other hand, this arrangement was the difference between a long term alliance with the North or will it add to the weight he has to shoulder on. He has to arrange the marriage under secrecy, to not have his enemies knowing his plans.

The door of the King's Tower opens for the king to see his heir in the gold and black furs, and had his sword _**Limos**_ by his side. He was without the Reachman knight, Ser Sorrell Grimm, who was always by the side of his son.

The scar Jacob had under and over his left eye made him more intimating. Selyse didn't like how he came out of the battlefield with a permanent scar on him, and it will ruin any chances of him getting married.

"I see you are as grim as ever father." Jacob said, pulling a chair to sit face to face with his father.

"You would be if you received many rejections instead of fealties." Stannis replied.

"Father, you cannot expect the North to bend to you with no Starks around. They are only loyal to their own, and worship the Old Gods, as fiercely as I do the Seven."

"Do you have anything smart to say or is it more of your jargon?" The king gritted between his teeth.

"My _jargon_ father, is the difference between us getting the North on our side or plunged into a war with the Faith."

"I don't want to hear any more of it, you have already voiced your displeasure for having the Lady Melisandre around."

"I don't trust her, she is an unknown factor. People have died, since she arrived on these shores."

"How is the Lord Commander?" The king asked.

"He is handling his position well, considering the weight he has on his shoulders. There are a minority of Black Brothers, who will do anything to sabotage him."

"Slynt and Throne are sure to be the leaders."

"Jon trusts me, but is wary of the Lady Melisandre, but for good reason. The woman inspires nightmares of all men, who sleep in Castle Black."

"I don't like it, how the men think of you as Robert returned from the dead. Any man who has been further from the Wall is sure to be mad."

"We can use it to our advantage, as the Lannisters believe me to be dead, and we could use the same ruse the Tyrells used to cause some of the lords to abandon us at the Blackwater."

"We must focus on the North, and how we are going to liberate it from the Boltons and the Ironborn."

"With the salt smelling craven dead; his son is a hostage of the Boltons, his brothers plotting to attack the Reach and his daughter still in the North."

"The Grimm knight…I'm not sure of is intentions. His family are sworn to the Tyrells, and I cannot have another betrayal in my ranks again."

"Sorrell risked everything to bring me back to Dragonstone, he was a man without a purpose but sailing boats from Oldtown. He saved my life, and helped me become a better fighter on the field."

"I….don't want you to get attached to him…there are no friends in the game of thrones. Only allies and enemies."

Those words spoken by Stannis hit his son hard. Jacob's expression turned from the warmth, to his head being lowered and pondered in his own thoughts.

His son's mind was a complex one, as it was made for politics and scheming. He could have made a great addition on Robert's Small Council, and could have saved him from the Lannisters.

What is done is done, and there was no going back, as going back would mean the end for Stannis and Jacob.

"I know my own mind, father. No forgiveness, no penitence or weakness, as long as there are enemies to be killed and a throne to be claimed."

"This marriage….it will be the final sign of you being a man. Not a boy anymore, not the boy I finally got to hold in my arms, after misfortunes plagued your mother and I." The king said, attempting to hold back any sign of emotion.

"The Starks are gone, and Jon will never abandon his vows to the Watch. We are in this war together, and we have to start trusting one another."

"It seems Lord Commander Snow trusts you more than he does of me."

"Jon is more comfortable around someone his own age, and someone who doesn't intimidate him so much."

Stannis didn't like it. The truth of how Jacob was right in some aspect, but he would never admit it to him, as he was the father, the king and the last patriarch of House Baratheon.

Jacob was a different man, to the one who went out to fight on the Blackwater. He was only a boy of six and ten at the time of the battle, but now he has fully grown into a man, and his physical appearance made him more of a warrior than the king's late brother.

The heir to the Iron Throne had a grown beard on his face, and the eye scar was evidenced on his face. Stannis knew his son was battle hardened, and wanted more. He wanted another taste of blood on the field, and he will get his chance again.

The door opened for Lord Commander Snow to enter, with the Lady Melisandre behind him. It made his son brittle at the Red Woman's presence, as he didn't like to be around her at all.

" _ **The defiance Jacob shows towards Melisandre came from the Baratheon side of the family, but she pays no mind to it."**_

The Red Priestess went outside, as soon as her eyes turned to the Prince with the seven pointed star around his neck, signifying his fealty to the Seven and his defiance against her god.

* * *

The Prince offered the Lord Commander his seat, as Prince Jacob pulled up another to sit to his father's right. He held his hands together, and looked between his father and the Lord Commander he called a friend.

"Most of the Northern houses have rejected my offer of fealty; the last letter sent was from a child of age ten of House Mormont." The king spoke, giving the letter to the Lord Commander.

"Bear Island knows no king, but the King in the North, whose name is Stark." Jon Snow read out.

Prince Jacob was amused, of his own father being refuted by a mere child, but this child was noble and came from a house of resilient women, who fought to protect their lands from Ironborn.

"She is only a child, father. Pay her no mind." Jacob interjected, in a lighter tone.

"So far, the only house to have declared for me is House Karstark. Luckily for them, their current castellan Arnolf offered me his niece for a marriage alliance with my son." The king said, in an iron tone, "However, I ask for gold from the Watch to pay off Ser Davos's sellsail friend Salladhor Saan.

"Your Grace, I would recommend you take White Harbor for gold. Lord Manderly has two unwed granddaughters, as they are eligible for His Grace, the Prince to marry if he chooses to."

"Never, Lord Manderly is fat and useless, and will contribute nothing to my cause. He responded to my letter full of excuses of age and cowardice."

"Father, we have won the support of a portion of House Umber, led by Mors Umber. We may have been rejected by many houses, but there are still some who will not bow to the Boltons and the Lannisters, after the Red Wedding." The prince said.

"The wildlings are still seeking shelter south of the Wall." The Lord Commander said, changing the subject.

"I tend to burn Mance Rayder as a deserter tonight."

"Your Grace, I have known the man for some time, he could have killed me, but he didn't. He has his own sense of honour, and has inspired tribes of wildlings to follow him instead of fighting amongst each other."

"I'm sorry, Jon. The man may have been your friend, but he is a criminal. The law states the way a deserter has to be punished is death." Prince Jacob said, in a strong tone.

"What will be the fate of his wife's sister and his child?"

"The wildling princess will come to no harm; she will stay on the Wall with the rest of her people."

"Gilly has become a wet nurse for her own child and Mance Rayder's son, and I plan to send her and her child south."

"For what reason, Lord Commander." The king asks, and the king's heir wondered too.

"She is just another mouth to feed, and I want her gone."

"Tough decision, but it's the right one to make. For the betterment for the rest of your Black brothers." Jacob interjects.

"I demand lands and castles from the Night's Watch." King Stannis grumbled, shuffling through the letters on the table.

"I already ceded land in the Gift, and the other castles belong to men of the Watch," Jon objected, wanting to preserve lands belonging to the Watch and his black brothers. "I offer to have my own officers man the abandoned forts, and to command some of your men as a garrison, Your Grace."

"You may lead the men of the Night's Watch, but you will not command men of my army to do anything, Lord Commander."

Prince Jacob hand his hand out, to cut off his father. As he was brave to interrupt the king, and turned to face the Lord Commander.

"What my father is meaning to say is that we need our men. We don't have much men, since many died, during the two battles of the Blackwater and Castle Black. The only way we can have more men, is if I marry someone from a wealthy and powerful house."

"The decision on the wildlings will be complicated, as your brothers will not like it, no more than your father's lords, but I mean to allow the wildlings through the Wall….those who will swear me their fealty, pledge to keep the king's peace and the king's laws, and take the Lord of Light as their god. Even the giants, if their great knees can bend, they will be settled on the Gift. When the cold wind rise, we shall live or die together. It is time we made an alliance against a common foe."

"I appreciate the offer, Your Grace. I shall discuss it with the wildlings, and see what they will think of it."

"You are excused to take your leave, Lord Commander." The prince said, folding his arms.

Stannis was unsure of how Jacob could be diplomatic, in the middle of a complicated situation with the wildlings and how to shelter them from what laid beyond the Wall.

Lord Commander Snow left the King's Tower, and the door was closed after he had left. Leaving the rightful king facing his heir, who looked to be thinking, due to his lack of focus and concentration on matters on the Wall.

Stannis looked through the many rejection replies from the Northern houses, but there was support from House Umber, half of the noble house led by Mors Umber, and the other half of the house supporting House Bolton, led by Hother Umber.

The king thought about the suggestion from Jon Snow about Lord Manderly, or as Stannis liked to call him fat and useless, about his unwed granddaughters. The alliance with the Manderlys would benefit Stannis more than the match offered by the Karstarks.

"Two marriage offers at the same time; the North must be desperate to oust the Boltons." Jacob said, in a grim tone.

"House Karstark has declared their support for our cause, it would be wise to consider marrying Lord Arnolf's niece."

"House Manderly are the wealthier house, and I don't trust this Arnolf Karstark. He seems too eager to marry his niece off, even though she is the rightful heir of Karhold, if her brother is killed by the Lannisters."

"What do you think we should do with the wildings?"

"Letting them through the Wall is going to cause problems, especially with the Northern lords, who for generations have had their lands pillaged by the wildlings. House Umber especially won't take too kindly to having wildlings settling in the North."

"I should have asked the Lord Commander if the Umbers had any unwed daughters also."

Prince Jacob was amused, of the idea of his own father and Lord Wyman Manderly being linked as good family, it was something Stannis did not want to envision to happen, because it could be a reality and it would be worse than being injured on the battlefield.

The awkwardness of marriage aside. The Umbers, the Karstarks and the Manderlys were powerful houses in the North, and all held true loyalty to the Starks, but the North was fractured and were fighting each other, instead of banding together against the true enemy.

Roose Bolton and his mad dog of a bastard.

"Father, do you truly believe yourself to be this ancient hero reborn." Jacob asked, as it was a hard question.

"I don't know anymore, I am only a man of flesh and blood. A man bound to honour, duty and justice. I am not a man made to be a mythical hero, you are meant to be such a man." Stannis replied.

"Why, my strengths are not on the battlefield, but in court and politics?"

"I regret allowing Robert to send you to Highgarden, who knows what the Tyrells have taught you."

"A king's word is law, and there was nothing you could do. I learned more from the Tyrells, than I have learned inside King's Landing."

"When we leave the Wall, and rest at Eastwatch. Your mother and sister will be informed of who you will be marrying."

"It will be hard for Shireen, she is still a child and doesn't know she will be gaining a new good sister."

"Your sister will adjust and will learn to accept things, but your mother will have a harder time. She planned for you to marry a southerner, and has voiced her displeasure of the idea of you marrying a northerner."

"Why?"

"Your mother was born and raised in the Reach, where they value their own and are ambitious. They don't think much of the North, and do not care for them at all."

"You may not like what I tell you, but you need me more than ever. My political cunning could mean the difference between making new allies or making more enemies than we already have."

Stannis knew Jacob was a man grown, and had seen his former Uncle Alester Florent burned for his crimes of treason, why would the wildling king be any different, as he will be punished for deserting the Watch.

The glares between father and son were tiring, it was what was expected when having a son more politically minded than wanting to be like his father.

The execution of the King Beyond the Wall will be the next step for Jacob, to see if his heir was prepared to make the hard choices and the difficult decisions needed to become a good king.


	3. Jacob I

**A/N: The third chapter is here.**

* * *

 **Chapter Three – Jacob I**

Prince Jacob stood in a corner with his eyes on the wildling princess Val, as she was with two other wildlings. Her long, blonde braid and white furs made her a true northern beauty, the kind that could rival the ladies of the South.

The young man wasn't sure whether she would talk to him or puncture her spear into his heart.

The conditions on the Wall made him grit between his teeth. Jacob hated the cold, but he knew his time here couldn't be too long and he was ready to spill blood in the North.

" _ **Gods….will any of our men survive the days being here or will a few die due to the conditions."**_

Prince Jacob's eyes were still on the wildling princess, but the stern words of his father were ringing in his head, imploring him to stay away from the woman because she was a wildling and a savage, in the eyes of his father.

He was walking through the treks of snow across his boots. He was alone, and he didn't have Sorrell around him, but he knew he had to not get attached to the man for good reasons.

Jacob sensed his heart was hardening by the second. It was happened when he got older, hardened and more aware of how the world actually was in this new grey view.

Being a prince, heir to the ugliest chair in the kingdom and a high value target made Jacob a lot less reckless in what he was doing; he was more calculated in his actions and began to play the game, as he and his father are getting closer to the end goal.

To be sat on the Iron Throne with the bodies of all their enemies lying in the throne room.

His presence on the wall caused a lot to stare, as if none of the Night's Watch had never had visit from royalty before, and they were saved by the rightful king. Not the usurper, who try to hold his father's throne.

Seeing Val made Jacob think of his inevitable wife, of how she would be and which house will she be from. Will she be pleasant looking? Will she be of a wealthy house? Will she be able to take on the mantle of princess and then queen?

" _ **Where is Sorrell, he should be with me, as he is my sworn shield after all."**_ The prince muttered to himself.

The prince's father was right about one thing. To never grow attached to people because they can turn quickly and can become another enemy to be killed.

Sorrell was a man of the Reach, from a house sworn to the Tyrells and he had disobeyed his own liege just to keep Jacob alive and to help him on his journey to get home to his family and to resume his role, as heir to the throne.

Duty was paramount in the eyes of King Stannis, and everything else just got in the way or needs to be disposed or killed off.

Prince Jacob strolled through the snows of the black castle, and wrapped his arms around himself.

The prince was old enough, to make his own choices and not be so reliant on his father's counsel, but it was a hard decision to think about, as it was going to determine his future. He was a future king, and he needed to start acting like it.

He began to walk into the Lord Commander's Tower, as it was dark and smelled of old smoke. It must have been when the old Lord Commander was killed.

The air thickened, as Prince Jacob walked up the steps. Some of the tower still remained, even though two floors of it were burned and ruined. The blackness within the tower released a haunting whisper, echoing the atmosphere. It made the prince shake his head.

He heard voices, when he was getting closer. Prince Jacob didn't understand how Jon could stay in this place, even after the Lord Commander before him died in this very tower.

" _ **I would never understand the way of life here. I am highborn, my uncle had been king and was lucky to be afforded the privileges that noble society has given me."**_

As he got there, he saw the faces of Jon and Samwell. His eyebrow was raised, and he didn't understand how he and the Tarly boy were distant kin and he didn't inherit the ugliness of the members of House Florent.

"Your Grace, how can I be of service?" Samwell said, turning his head to face the prince.

"I hear you are to be departing from the Wall." Prince Jacob replied.

"I am to train to be a Maester for Castle Black."

"I heard two Queen's Men have gone south of the Wall." Jon inquired.

"Horpe and Massey were commanded to go; I wanted less Queen's Men around to cause trouble for the black brothers."

"Gilly and Maester Aemon will be accompanying me to Eastwatch by the sea to make the journey to Oldtown."

Prince Jacob saw the glow in Sam's eyes when he mentioned the wildling girl, he must care for her a lot and has to deal with criticism from the other black brothers about her presence on the Wall.

He wished he found someone, who would care for him beyond him being the rightful prince and highborn. Someone who would be with him, and not having to call him Your Grace all the time.

Samwell mentioning Oldtown stirred something within the Prince, as it made him remember how it was where he ended up after the end of the Battle of Blackwater. He had the luck of the seven on his side of not being caught and killed.

"May the Seven bless you on your journey, Samwell." The prince said lightly, as it was not a tone he would use often.

"I would say the same to you, Your Grace."

"Be careful, Samwell. The south isn't too kind these days, there is still a war going on and much of it is controlled by the Lannisters or the Tyrells."

"We are of the Night's Watch; we are to remain neutral in political matters."

"True, but it wouldn't apply to those foolish enough to think you are allied with my father."

Jacob was worried about Sam; he was journeying into the south with a maester and a wilding girl.

All he knew was that the Lannisters and Tyrells ruled the Seven Kingdoms, but it wouldn't last for long, as there will be power struggles between the two rich houses. He learned an important lesson from the game of thrones.

No powerful house will want to share power with a house they feel is beneath them.

Prince Jacob felt out of place. Jon and Sam were close friends, and trusted each other more than anything in the world. It gave a cruel reminder, of how his mind was still stuck to the past in that regard.

" _ **I need to stop thinking about the past, I thought I had gotten over it. However, it still hurts to see other people happy and I am just stuck in a hole of darkness."**_

"I hear you will be married soon, Your Grace." Sam announced, "You will be someone's lord husband soon."

"My marriage problems shouldn't deter you from your own quest. It will be a long and hard journey, and I hope you come back alive." Jacob replied.

"I didn't know you thought so highly of me, Your Grace."

"I realised that I should be fearing my own mortality, going onto another battle and fighting again."

"Death will come for us all, Your Grace." Jon said cryptically, as the prince knew what he was talking about.

"Unless everyone else can put their petty squabbles behind them and focus on preparing for the winter."

"Banding rival groups together is not easy, and I have seen first-hand."

Prince Jacob chuckled, even though the bitter enmity between the black brothers and the wildlings was not good because his father intended to band to two together. It's a good idea in writing, but putting it into action was another task.

"I am prepared to take my leave, and I will be there to see you, Gilly and Maester Aemon off." The prince said.

"I'm honoured by such a kind gesture, Your Grace. You must have more important things to do."

"Not so much, other than war strategy for long hours of the day. I'll be glad to take a break away from reading maps of the North for most of the day."

"Is it true, you got your scars from the Blackwater and the battle south of the wall?" Samwell asked, looking directly at the scar beneath his eye, and the one on top of his lip.

"My uncle always says that battle scars make the warrior."

"My condolences for your loss, Your Grace."

"It matters not, people die all the time and soon enough we will be dead too." Prince Jacob said.

"It's a bold thing to say, Your Grace." Jon said.

"I say it because I believe it to be true. It matters not what the lords and ladies think, I believe this winter will be a harsh one and whatever is behind the wall must be stopped."

"The white walkers."

"I read something in a book in Oldtown when I was younger of how Valyrian steel can kill of the cold monsters, as those kinds of weapons were made in ancient Valyria in dragon fire."

The idea of death intrigued Jacob, and sometimes it made him wish he could have died on the Blackwater. To not have the weight of being a prince, a future king and a future husband on his shoulders and he could be elsewhere.

It was hard, to live in a world that was empty and cold. The people in it were the shadows of who they used to me and were shells of who they were. Shells filled with the illusions of power, grandeur and status.

Jacob didn't want it, but by honour and duty those titles were forced on him. He had to bear the brunt of it. His father didn't have much time left; he was getting older, thin and gaunt by the days.

It might have the coldness and the discomfort gritting his bones, but Prince Jacob brushed a part of his hair backwards, as it was growing longer. It might even had been longer than Uncle Robert's, when he was young and in his prime.

The prince made his leave of the Lord Commander's Tower with his black cloak following him from behind his still and cold blue irises.

" _ **Why am I overthinking, making rash choices and slipping back into the comfort of being my father's favourite soldier?"**_

The thoughts rattling into the prince's mind, and he was close to lashing out in the open. His cruel, snappy mind didn't leave him alone, as he was stuck with those thoughts, as an extension of the feelings he had pushed down in favour of following his father without question.

The crossroad of manhood was not as easy as lords claim it to be. It's internally suffocating to try and live up to the expectations laid out in front of young men. Crippling self-hate and the self-doubt is in there all the time.

Jacob feels he is always on a hangman's noose, whether to be hanged for failure or to be set free for following duty and nothing else mattered.

* * *

Prince Jacob was bored; he was sick of reading maps and the limited books inside the keep. It was the day after he spoke with Jon and Samwell about the latter's journey to the Citadel to train and become the new master for Castle Black.

It was a noble endeavour, even if his own father Lord Randyll didn't see it that way, like many of the manly and brutish high lords.

He was accompanied by Ser Sorrell Grimm, the knight who owed a lot to him. The knight wore more layers, as he understood it. Sorrell was born in the south and has not visited the cold region of the North before.

The prince stood with the knight, as the two were inside the common room of the castle. As it was the only part of Castle Black that was properly warm and had a fire going on. Most of the black brothers were finishing their morning meal.

"I'm sorry, if I have acted improper towards you." Jacob said, walking with the knight.

"What do you mean, Your Grace?" Sorrell asked.

"I may act out of character, but the cold is getting into my bones."

"Mine too."

"Us southerners are not cut out for the cold weather. How are we going to survive the rest of the war?"

"Luck and faith from the Seven, Your Grace."

"I'm not sure luck will help us, there is only so much luck can do for someone before they realise it was their perseverance that helped them through tough times."

"How did you become so sceptical about such things, Your Grace?"

"I'm starting to think wider and outside of my own mind. It's something that Jon said that made me realise the hardships of what we are going to face."

"As long as you have a clean sword and a good eye, you will be fine."

"I hope you are right, if you are not, then you will be dead before me."

Prince Jacob then heard irate voices in his ear, as he turned around for it to be Jon and that lumbering fool Janos Slynt. He never liked the man, and he took a liking to watching men like him be humiliated or being ordered around.

And then he saw a crowd of men, from his father's army, the other black brothers and others surrounding them. The prince stood up, and the knight followed behind him to see what the dispute was about, as it has many men interested.

The iron prince stood beside Jon and the other men stepped back, as most didn't know the prince was in their presence.

"I see you are failing to comply with the orders of your Lord Commander." Prince Jacob said sternly.

"I didn't vote for this traitor and bastard." Slynt replied with anger in his tone.

"Brother Slynt, you were ordered to take command of the castle of Greyguard." Jon commanded.

"He has been elected, and you should respect the decision made by most black brothers, who did vote for him."

"With all due respect, Your Grace. He is too young for such a title, being young and inexperienced gives him the licence to do what he wants."

"Punishment for refusing a direct command is death." Jon said.

Prince Jacob didn't like it when men would grovel to him, but he only liked it when they would beg for mercy from getting killed by a sword.

"Just because these fools voted for you, it doesn't mean I must be ordered around by a bastard, who seems to have most of these men heeding your commands, and that scarred prince favouring you but not me."

"Your Grace, should I cut off his fingers." Sorrell shouted, etching to pull out his sword. He was tensed, as he wanted to defend the prince's honour, even though he can do it on his own.

"No…it's the Lord Commander's choice to make about his punishment." Jacob said, with his hand out. As the knight put his sword away.

Jon cleared his throat and said. "Take Slynt to the top of the Wall and hang him." He instructed to two black brothers, who seem eager to do so.

"You will not through with such a thing, Tywin Lannister will have his retribution if I am harmed." Slynt says arrogantly.

Prince Jacob and Ser Sorrell began to laugh, as he knew what really happened to the Old Lion, who claimed to shit gold. He was dead, as will be the rest of house when he and his father were on the throne.

"You cannot do such, Slynt. Tywin Lannister is dead, and you are making empty threats just to save yourself."

"Liar, you are telling lies to further your own father's agenda."

"No, it's true my lord. He is dead, he was murdered by his own Imp son. The same one who sent you here."

Janos Slynt's eyes widened, whilst he was being taken by the two black brothers. He looked as if he had seen something come back from the dead. It was satisfying to see fear in the eyes of men, who think they cannot be afraid of anything in the world.

"Your Grace, I apologise for my comments. Stop this execution….." Slynt complained.

Most of the men went outside, as they were following wherever the Lord Commander went with a slightly imprisoned Slynt, who was to be hanged for all men to see.

Outside was a different story, as it was colder than inside the common room. Jacob with Sorrell behind him were in the mist of the black brothers, as they witness Janos Slynt, a man who used bribes and scheming to get ahead, to be pulled down to a lowly rat in need of killing.

"Are you going to let him kill me?" Slynt yelled, as Jacob ignored him. It was cruel to say he wanted the man to die.

For the things, he had done to others and how the blood of Ned Stark is still on his hands.

All the brothers on the Wall gathered around, along with the King's and Queen's Men of his father's army. They were all together to see an execution, and hopefully it would send a signal to Throne to stop his scheming against the Lord Commander as well.

"Edd, fetch me a block." The Lord Commander said, as the black brother named brought him one.

Prince Jacob has seen his fair share of blood and mauled bodies, but it didn't stop him from wanting to see this insubordinate fool dead in front of all the Night's Watch and his father's men to see.

Slynt was placed on the block with his head bent on the block of wood. He looked to be scared by the tears streaming from his eyes, but none of the other men saw it. The prince looked up at the King's Tower to see his father on the steps.

" _ **What is father doing, he must want to watch Slynt get his head chopped off. Or is he inspecting me, judging and criticising my lack of involvement in the situation."**_

Jacob ignored the sight of his father watching, and focused on the beheading itself. He had Sorrell with him, as the southern knight's eyes widened and stepped back. He must have seen his fair share of beheadings for small things in the south.

Jon pulled out his sword, as it was Valyrian steel with a sharp silver edge. It had the hilt of a wolf on it, even though it must have belonged to the old Lord Commander, Jeor Mormont; he never saw Jon with a sword like that in Winterfell.

Slynt looked to be scared, and he began muttering like a mad man. "Have mercy my lord. I will obey your orders; I will be insubordinate no more."

" _ **Too late for that."**_ Prince Jacob thought in his mind. He folded his arms, and watched in silence among the others.

"Please, my lord. Mercy…I'll go….I will….I." Slynt begged, but the swing of the steel sword swiftly takes his head quickly, spilling the blood from his headless body.

The prince's eyes widened, and covered his nose. He was used to blood from the battlefield, but not executions or beheadings, as his mother would always keep him from them.

At the corner of the prince's eye, he saw his father Stannis standing there. Looking at Jon, as a sign of having earned the rightful king's approval and trust. It was vital to catch the king's attention, and this beheading did and he had his eye on the Lord Commander.


	4. Davos I

**A/N: My first chapter in two months. I don't have specific pairing in mind for Jacob because as the story goes on I want to leave it in the open and see where the story goes.**

* * *

 **Chapter Four – Davos I**

Heavy, hard winds were not much of a bother in these parts, but it was, being marched by guards in the middle of a storm. The heavy armoured knights were pushing Ser Davos Seaworth along a straight line, and were not so relenting and were pushing him further up the pathway, of what looks to be a stone castle in the far distance.

He was in Sweetsister, one of the three islands of the Three Sisters. Davos was captured by the men of Lord Borrell, whilst he was stranded on the island; he tried to find a way, getting to White Harbor, the seat of House Manderly.

The Onion Knight was on a mission to represent his king and his claim. It was another time, when Davos had to part from Prince Jacob again, after all he wasn't sure about his new sworn shield, Sorrell of House Grimm.

The man had been from the Reach, his family was a vassal of House Tyrell, the enemies of King Stannis.

" _ **Sellsails are avaricious by nature; it was the cause of Salla making too much of a complaint about his gold from King Stannis. If the prince had been there at the scene, he would have killed my old friend for dishonouring his father's name and honour."**_

The guards were bringing him through the gates of a castle, and the stench of rotting fish and pig waste was in the air. Sisterton was a mean, small town, and it wasn't as illustrious as the bigger towns in the Vale of Arryn.

Breakwater Castle was quite imposing and grim. The bridge of entry was of black basalt and a rusty iron gate. The small arm of knights marched the Onion Knight through the bridge, and the steps leading into the cavernous stone keep, with the entrance covered by threadbare Myrish carpet.

The halls of Breakwater were gloomy, and waterdrops were falling from the ceiling. The flame lit torches were glowing brightly, as the banners of the white spider crab on a grey-green field were displayed; it was the sigil of House Borrell.

The Onion Knight was lead into the main hall, only to interrupt Lord Godric Borrell in the middle of his supper. The Lord of Sweetsister didn't look to be pleased to be interrupted, whilst eating. Davos saw the guards leaving the main hall, not wanting to disturb their lord further.

Lord Godric's eyes were on the knight's maimed hand, and looked back at him. The man seemed to be aware of who he was. The Lord of Sweetsister wasn't a pleasant looking man, but earning his ire would have dire consequences for the Onion Knight.

"What are you doing here?" Lord Godric said, offering the Onion Knight a seat at his table.

"I was on my way to White Harbor with a message from King Stannis to Lord Wyman Manderly." Ser Davos replied, taking the seat the Lord of the castle offered.

"How did you end up here?"

"I was stranded on the islands by storms, and I was washed up here." The Onion Knight said.

Ser Davos was reminded of how his old friend, the sellsail Salladhor Saan and his small fleet of Lynesi sellsails was smashed by the harshness of the storms, since departing south of the Wall. His old friend had been compliant, during the beginning of the war when it came to waiting for his reward.

On the other hand, much time has passed and Salladhor grew impatient of waiting; he was frustrated of King Stannis's continual inability to make good on his promises of gold dragons for his services and only staying by his side because of his long friendship with Davos. The Lyseni sellsail decided to abandon Stannis's cause and gave Davos a choice to make.

To follow him into Essos or to leave in a small longboat to continue his mission, and Davos choose to leave. Salladhor Saan, may have been his old friend, but the life of a smuggler was not the Onion Knight anymore. He was a changed man, and had a new purpose and title of Hand of the King; he would never abandon his king and prince, even for an old friend.

* * *

"My friend travelled south to raid the Lannisters at Stannis's command." Ser Davos lied, concealing this fact. It was a sore subject, having to disown an old friend for common sense.

"I should turn you over to Lord Sunderland, the Lord of the Three Sisters. He would sell you to the Lannisters for a great reward."

"Isn't Lord Sunderland sworn to the Eyrie, and by rights should turn me over to Lady Arryn." Davos countered.

"Lysa Arryn is dead, and Lord Littlefinger rules the Vale, as Lord Protector now." Lord Godric foretold, "Would your king ransom you for anything I desire?"

"You should send him a raven and ask for yourself, my lord."

"Is the Imp at the Wall, as well?"

"No, the last I heard he was the stand trial for murdering his nephew."

"It matters not, the Imp murdered his father and escaped." Lord Godric replied.

"My lord, I implore you. I need to send a raven to inform my king." The Onion Knight pleaded.

"I refuse to involve myself with this game, and I will not be inclined to get involved."

Lord Godric offered Davos some food, as it was a sign of him being a guest rather than a prisoner in his castle. As hungry as he was, the Onion Knight accepted the food given to him, and began to eat.

Ser Davos was assured even a robber lord and wrecker like Borrell would not violate guest right for one night. The food was pleasant, and didn't expect for such a lord to even treat him with curtesy.

"Lord Manderly will not ally with Stannis, for a shipload of Freys passed here to get to White Harbor. Lords Wyman and old Walder have made a pack and intend to seal it with marriage."

Dread filled Ser Davos. He was stunned by such a declaration, considering the Freys killed Lord Wyman's son. He feared for his king, knowing he desperately needed White Harbor and one of Lord Wyman's granddaughters to wed his son, the rightful heir to the throne.

"Wouldn't Stannis's son make a better husband for Lord Manderly's unwed granddaughters?"

"I'm surprised, not that I didn't believe the rumours of Jacob Baratheon being killed at the Blackwater, but some in the kingdoms believe him to be dead. It would be a dread to think would happen if everyone else knew he was alive and unmarried."

"I must go to White Harbor."

"I don't forget easily, of how your king or Lord Stannis as he was before personally threatened to hang me unless I stopped wrecking, and he forced me to hang few good friends of mine for the same crime. Never liked Stannis Baratheon, unfeeling prig he is and from what I hear, his son is no better."

"With Tywin Lannister dead, a child king rules and will not stand a chance against Stannis and Jacob."

"King Tommen has the wealth of Casterly Rock and the might of Highgarden, as well as the Boltons and Freys as allies. On the other hand, Cersei Lannister is an incompetent ruler, and you would be in chains if her uncle Ser Kevan Lannister was in power."

"I'm fortunate you haven't treated me like a prisoner. The alliance with the Tyrells will not last, especially when the king is only a child, with a man of marriageable age at the far corner of the North."

"You know Ned Stark was on these shores long ago. Shipwrecked, like you are and finding a way off the island."

"At the dawn of Robert's Rebellion. The Mad King had sent to the Eyrie for Stark's head, but Jon Arryn sent him back defiance. Gulltown stayed loyal to the throne. In order to get home and call his banners, Stark had to cross the mountains into the Fingers and find a fisherman to carry him across the Bite. A storm caught them on the way. The fisherman drowned, but his daughter got Stark to the Sisters before the boat sank. They say he left her with a bag of silver and a bastard in her belly. Jon Snow she named him, after Arryn."

"Were you there during the war?"

"No, my father could have sent his head to the Mad King, but allowed him to go on his way, and left him with parting words of warning."

"What were they?"

"If you lose, my father told Lord Eddard, you were never here."

"No more than I was."

"What I don't grasp is how that prig king of yours is able to keep his son unmarried for so long, during the war?"

"The right opportunity wasn't available to the king at the time."

"It's a shame, noble men like Jacob are rare nowadays. The boy can fight, he has a mind for the game and is highborn. I'm surprised no woman married him in the beginning, it only further proves how like his father he is; unpleasant, grim and a bore."

"The cause of it is the king, it's he who most prospects fear. He judges with a critical eye, but his mother objects to having her son taken away from her."

"It's always the women, who try to stand in the way of duty. Young men need to socialise with other women besides their relations."

"Not wrong there, my lord."

"Even the most ambitious and cunning of lords missed their opportunity, it matters not your king and prince will freeze in the North sooner rather than later."

"Did you host the Freys, whom were travelling to White Harbor?"

"I did sup with them, but I would never remember their names, as there are many Freys to remember all their names and some were even named after long gone royalty."

"You will not intend to keep me prisoner here."

"I will allow you go on your way, but if Stannis ends up on the losing side of the war. I will deny you were ever here on Sweetsister." Lord Godric said.

"Of course, My lord." Ser Davos replied.

"Take the advice my father gave to Stark years ago, and I will forget you were ever on my lands."

"It was like I was never here."

Ser Davos had to watch himself, he knew Borrell was a robber lord and was not worthy of being trusted. He did his duty and told the Onion Knight the updates of what was happening in the kingdoms, worthy of telling his king, as recent developments have presented an advantage for him.

With Tywin Lannister dead, and a little boy sitting on the throne. It was only a matter of time before the Tyrells would desert them for a better alliance.

On the other hand, King Stannis must marry to his son any of Lord Manderly's two granddaughters to secure another army, and a chance to win the throne again.

The Onion Knight knew what he had to do; his mission for the king was of outmost importance. He was grateful for Lord Godric's hospitality and for treating him more like a guest than a prisoner ready to be killed. Davos bristled of the idea of having to look at anyone of House Frey, whilst at White Harbor; he knew he had to do this for the sake of his king and the prince he left behind at the Wall.


	5. Stannis II

**A/N:** The new chapter is here, and it's short like the last one. It sets up what is to come further down the story.

* * *

 **Chapter Five – Stannis II**

A great pyre was constructed outside, as the execution draws near. King Stannis wanted this to be over and done with, but he knew he had some resistance to what he thought was right and how this King Beyond the Wall needed to pay for the consequences of his crime of dissertation of the Watch.

His son and heir was staring into the snow, and was not looking at him. Jacob didn't want to see another man burned, as he did with the traitor Lord Florent. Stannis sensed his son's hostility towards him on this issue, but he needed to understand why Mance Rayder has to die tonight.

" _ **Spending time with Ned Stark has made him more aware of the severity of death, and the meaning of penitence. As my heir he will learn that most people are not worth saving or forgiving."**_ The king thought.

All men of the King and the Night's Watch will be watching the man die, and there will be one less traitor in the realm. The Lord Commander argued with him about sparing Mance Rayder, but the king refused, as it would only make him look weak in front of lesser men.

He was man of honour, duty and justice. To uphold the laws of the Seven Kingdoms, and to dispense rightful justice to lawbreakers.

The king loathed himself, of how neglectful he was being towards his heir. Stannis envied the Reach knight Grimm for providing an emotional comfort for his son; he was supposed to be there for his son being his father.

Jacob brushed off the snow from his furs, and was trotting towards his father. Standing by his right side, and looking grimly at the constructed pyre, and the cage, which will house the former man of the Watch and wildling king.

"You don't have to go through with this, you can stop this." Jacob said coldly, with his arms folded.

"I'm standing firm in my word. The man will be executed tonight and there is nothing you or the Lord Commander can do about it." Stannis replied.

"You could cut off his head, rather than burn him alive. It's a more honourable way for him to die."

"The man has no honour, deserting the Watch demands penance of death. You will understand such things when you are king."

"Even as your heir, I still don't understand why you refuse to listen, and follow what Melisandre tells you. Is it because she is feeding you false hope of magic getting us the throne?"

"I'm…..not sure what to believe anymore, all the fantastical fairy tales Melisandre likes to spread, I've never believed in it. I only followed because the power she has is real, and she may be useful for the days to come."

"I doubt it."

Stannis didn't fully understand his son, as the young man was different to what his father wanted him to be. It wasn't terrible because he had the makings of a great king; he had his mind, knew how to use it in political situations and he was able to learn about people and how to use it to his advantage in the game of thrones.

It was why he needed Jacob. Stannis was more a soldier, not a man made to play the game of thrones, but his son learned from the Tyrells on how to play this dreadful game; his intelligent mind was needed in order to accumulate allies in the North and to stand a chance of gaining the throne.

The men began to gather round. Most of the brothers from the Night's Watch and the king's own men were in attendance. The king glared at his son, sensing his discomfort of having to witness another execution, and not being able to do anything to stop it.

King Stannis gripped onto the hilt of Lightbringer, and shuddered. He didn't truly believe he was the hero in the prophecy, but only clung onto it because of his goal of being on the Iron Throne. Nothing else mattered than retrieving his rightful place as King of the Seven Kingdoms.

"At least, most of the black brothers will be satisfied." Prince Jacob whispered gruffly, "None of them would miss him anyways."

"Not the Lord Commander." King Stannis replied.

"Jon spent time with the man, it's only because of his sentiment towards him. The law is the law, and he must die for his crimes against the Watch."

"Will you make the same choices when it comes to putting your former friends to the sword? Such as those Tyrells and those who care for you in the Reach?"

"Only the traitors and cowards should die, killing them all would be a waste and cause more problems. Many in the Seven Kingdoms don't like you, it will take a miracle for it minds and hearts to change about you."

"None are too fond of you either, being my son and carrying my name. The usurpers fear you more than they do me. You are young, intelligent and look more like your uncle than whom they believe to be the rightful heirs."

"Are you praising me because it might be the last time you might do so?"

"You have earned it."

"I never liked the smell of coal and fire, it's the burning of the Seven all over again."

The king watched, as a few men placed the former King Beyond the Wall into a cage. The mad man was muttering whatever words he could to save himself from death. His eye caught on the Reachman Sorrell Grimm standing beside his son, as his sworn shield. His head was covered by a hat.

Stannis gritted between his teeth; he never liked Grimm, but he was an above average fighter and he owed the man for bringing him and Selyse their son back from Oldtown. The man's family were sworn to the Tyrells, and he needed to be watched.

"Mercy! He is no king! Witchcraft will never give him kingship!" The King Beyond the Wall shrieked, and he was thrown into the cage dangling over the pyre.

Stannis ignored the man's screaming, and did not believe any of it. The man was a deserter and a wildling; he was going to die and no one was going save him. Even his own people were content in seeing him burn to his deathbed.

The king grumbled under his breath; he was playing a dangerous game, allowing others to believe he was this hero reborn. He only went along with it because he wanted to see what more could the Lady Melisandre do for him. Her stories maybe flawed, but her power and what she could do was real.

" _ **Let's get this over and done with. I cannot remain here for long. There are war councils to be had and we need a plan on how to cleanse the North of Ironborn scum and Bolton scum. Let the Lord Commander deal with the wildlings."**_

Stannis sees the Red Woman standing beside the pyre; all the men on the Wall were focused on her.

* * *

"In these times, there will be a battle between the light and the dark; between life and death itself. The Lord of Light will prevail against the One whose name cannot be spoken." The Lady Melisandre said, whilst she had the horn in her hands.

The Red Woman saw fit to throw the horn into the pyre. She said moments before how this was going to be the cause of the destruction of the Wall, and how it needed to be destroyed. The only thing his logical minded son Jacob agreed on when it came to the Lady Melisandre's storytelling.

The pyre was now burning aflame. The light of the fire reminded Stannis of the burning of the Seven.

He did not know how Jacob would be effected by it, as they were the gods his son worshiped, since childhood. They were the gods his wife Selyse abandoned from her girlhood, alongside the rest of the southerners in his army.

The wildling deserter was shrieking, with the flames burning through his tattered clothes and the wildlings were watching in a stoic manner. From the corner of the king's eye, he saw a row of archers with heir bows at the ready. He knew the Lord Commander would do something to end Mance Rayder's suffering; the man was his friend and he would do anything to end his misery.

Jacob stood beside his sworn shield from Greyshield, and covered his nose. The stench of burning wood and coal bothered his son, as it reminded him of Lord Florent's death. The circumstances were the same; both men were oathbreakers and deserved to die by the law.

The king heard the Lord Commander order his men to shoot Mance Rayder with arrows, as the men obeyed him. He scowled at how the arrows put the wildling king out of his misery; he thought Jon Snow would see sense, but he had interfered with an execution.

"Abandon your false king, as the Lord of Light rejects him. Embrace Stannis Baratheon, as he is the true king and Azor Ahai reborn." The Red Woman chanted.

Discomfort sat within Stannis. He knew deep inside this was a fool's show, but he had to save face and show strength as the rightful king. The king stood beside the Lady Melisandre, and drew Lightbringer, for the sword's light was so bright that the wildings and men had to cover their eyes.

"You have a choice, whether to kneel before me and live or go die beyond the wall. Those who serve me will be promised food, shelter and assistance from what lays behind the wall." The king proclaimed.

The gates of the Wall were opened, and most of the captive wildings enter to kneel before the king, feeding the pyre with fragments of white pieces to feed to the fires of R'hllor. The king wasn't blind or deaf to the muttering from the Black brothers; most of them were not pleased of having wildings allowed through the Wall.

" _ **This has to be tackled carefully, father. We already have enough problems, as it is. We don't need to be dealing with another war between the Night's Watch and the wildlings."**_ Jacob had said to Stannis the night before.

The king gritted his teeth; it was not right for him to envy his own son. Jacob's own political cunning made him more likeable towards the men of the Watch, and made Lord Commander Snow trust him more than he did the king.

" _ **The Lord Commander dares tell me not to make the wildlings kneel. The boy is sentimental towards these savages, I am the king and my word is law. My own son would stand against me given the chance for his dear friend."**_

Jacob was all Stannis had left. He could not afford to isolate his son from him, especially when he needed him the most. His son's eyes were weary, and he stuck by the Reachman, holding onto the man's wrist longer than he should have. Jacob did not look directly towards the king, and if he did, his eyes would widen and keep his distance from Stannis.

The execution was over, and most of the captive wildlings that knelt were fed and sheltered from the cold of the Wall. Most of his captives were apprehensive of the Lady Melisandre, and they had reason to be. His heir Jacob always stood away from the Red Woman, and clutched onto the seven-pointed star around his neck, whenever he had to be in the same room as Melisandre.

" _ **My son is devout in his faith, and Melisandre won't leave him be. Jacob fostered with the Tyrells, and shares their devotion to the Faith of the Seven. I will never understand religion, but my son's belief in the Seven has kept the southerners loyal to me."**_

The king began to look at his own gaunt hands, and realised how Jacob's concern for his wellbeing wasn't sentiment or weakness. Jacob wasn't a man of action, but was more comfortable with obverting situations and learning from the outcomes. It is what he needs to acquire in order to be capable of ruling seven broken kingdoms.

Stannis held onto Lightbringer, and saw how this sword was the only thing that proved he was the saviour of Melisandre's prophecy. It was a terrible crime to lie, but it was necessary because it kept the Red Woman by his side and willing to serve him.

It made the wildlings and the brothers of the Watch fear him, which was what the king wanted. Fear and terror could do anything to anyone, which was how the Lannisters have held onto the Iron Throne for this long, even under a child king.

Stannis looked towards his son, and he was speaking with the Reachman. He saw shades of Robert in him; he had a desire to be a leader among men, to lead them into war and to gain glory for his king.


	6. Davos II

**A/N: The seventh chapter is here.  
**

* * *

 **Chapter Six – Davos II  
**

The rags and the cloths of a common sailor were what Ser Davos had adorned, in order to keep his presence unnoticeable to the citizens in White Harbor. It was a large port, with many people bustling through one place to another. It was a manner much different to what he originally intended, but it was necessary, to the secrecy of his mission.

" _ **I will be rewarded greatly by the king, if I am able to secure this alliance. I know how difficult it was to find Jacob a wife, it wasn't the young man's fault he inherited the most unpleasant qualities of both his mother and father. The Manderlys would appreciate a man of high birth, not a social climber like a Frey."**_

In front of him, Davos caught on new fortifications, such as higher walls and more men on the grounds and along the shore. He has been in this place before, having taken a ship from here with Jacob and his son Devan, on their voyage back to Dragonstone.

It was at simpler times, and when things were not so complicated. The North was even more secretive than he assumed. Being in war made Davos more aware of the new jetty walls, which could be hiding warships. He shook his head, of how Lord Manderly could have any use for warships.

The Onion Knight thinks of Eastwatch, where the King Stannis commanded Queen Selyse and Princess Shireen were to stay for the duration of their time at the Wall. He remembered something a black brother told him how Lord Manderly would never ally with the Boltons, but Lord Borrell said it was what the merman lord was going to do.

As Davos sees the small galleys dock at the shores, a warship appeared at the corner of the knight's eye. It was a large ship, bearing the lion and stag sigil was proudly on the ship's flag. His heart sank, knowing what the robber lord told him of the Freys presence in White Harbor.

The Onion Knight strolls into the city, it was filled with refugees from the war. He kept his cloths on, as he didn't want to be discovered by any of the passing Manderly troops, whom held tridents instead of spears or swords, in which other soldiers of the Seven Kingdoms armed themselves with.

He walked through the Fishfoot Yard. It was seeming with people of all kinds were here and all did something. There was a young girl selling cups of fresh milk from her nanny goat, and others such herb women, scribes and moneychangers going some form of business with what looks to be a hedge wizard, it was something Davos wanted to remember for his youngest sons when he got back home to them and his wife.

Davos glimpses the gates of Old Mint were opened. Through previous visits, the iron and oak doors were always closed, but it was a huddled place where old men, women and children were housed, most of them were refugees of war. He wasn't sure of what Lord Manderly means to do with them, but they were seeking shelter from one of the only places in the North untouched by war.

The former smuggler stopped beneath the colonnade, not knowing where he was going through the crowded square. From his years of being a smuggler. He learned secrecy and deception, were the only things that kept him alive in those times.

" _ **I am not that man anymore. Who never had a real purpose other than gold? I have a purpose, of serving my king and his heir. I owe everything I am today to the rightful king, and treated his son as if he was an eighth son of mine."**_

Trotting past an apple stall, Davos started to feel a little hungry. The meal from the robber lord satisfied him enough through his journey. Fruit wasn't something the Onion Knight enjoyed, but Prince Jacob enjoyed what the harvest of the Reach brought to him.

Davos began to miss him, and thoughts turned to his own sons. He was fortunate of his younger sons Stannis and Steffon were as far away from harm and war as he liked. His other son Devan was still at the Wall, as a squire for Prince Jacob.

" _ **Originally, Devan was meant to be the king's squire, but the prince chooses him to be his squire instead. Not one to object his son's wishes, the king accepted. The prince's return made Devan happy, and not having to face remarks from the Florents anymore."**_

The Onion Knight trades a halfpenny for an apple, to the seller, whom owned the stall. The man was a stranger, but he was an inhabitant of White Harbor and must know of the tidings and news of what was happening in the city.

"Crowded square, I've never seen such before. Are most of the people Northerners?" Ser Davos asked.

"Most of them are smallfolk from up the White Knife, while others are from Hornwood, whom sought sanctuary inside the city walls. Who can blame them, with the Bastard of Bolton running loose, killing and harming whomever he wants." The apple seller replied.

"What becomes of them?"

"Most survive by begging and stealing. Some of the young girls become prostitutes, while any boy of descent height can find a place in Lord Manderly's barracks, as long as he can hold a spear."

Guilt sat within the Onion Knight. He had come on a singular minded mission to deliver his king's plea towards the Lord of White Harbor. The people around him were the casualties of war, and his presence of potentially bringing war onto Lord Manderly's doorstep wasn't what he had in mind.

"Are most of the troops guarding the ports?" Ser Davos asked.

"Lord Manderly is recruiting troops, it's all I know of it." The apple seller replied.

Ser Davos saw through the apple seller's suggestions. The sight of the heightened walls and the new soldiers in the city indicated what he already knew of Lord Manderly's intentions. The merman lord was hosting the Freys in his city, and the robber lord told him of how the alliance between the two houses were to be sealed with marriage with Manderly's two granddaughters marrying two upstart Freys, who were not good enough for such noble ladies of the North.

" _ **The mission may seem hopeless, but I will do what I can for my king. He has intrusted me with arranging this pact with Lord Manderly. The king was content of keeping his son unmarried, so ambitious lords can fight each other for the chance of their daughters to be queen."**_

Ser Davos liked the idea of it. These pompous lords fighting for whatever can bring them closer to the throne, but he knew Prince Jacob was sort after, even hiding behind the Wall. After this mission was over; he hoped to see the prince again, even if he was for a short time. Davos has been away from Jacob for far too long, even though the prince was a man grown and can take care for himself.

The Onion Knight was curious to know what was going on, it had been a long time, since he departed from his king and much has happened. With the Lannisters weakening, it will only be a matter of time for when their allies will fall with them. Lord Manderly was the unknown; he could make the difference of this long mission being a success or a grievous failure.

* * *

Ser Davos made his way to Lazy Eel, a known winesink in the city. A place were unsavoury characters would enjoy the vilest wine and meat pies full of lard and gristle. At times, the pies were inedible to eat on their best gates and some were poisonous on their worst days.

" _ **In my smuggling days, the Eel was known to those who would venture there. City guardmen and officers would not be caught there. It was only for saliors and fisherman whom didn't know any better. I only visited here a few times, but never came again, because of fear of being arrested."**_

The place was quite crowded, when the Onion Knight entered the winesink. The ceiling was barrel vaulted and stained black with soot on the walls. It was the same as he saw it years ago, as nothing had changed about the sink. The stench in the air was of smoke, spoiled meat from their pies and stale vomit that hasn't been cleaned for a long time. Ser Davos covered his nose with his cloths.

He could see many sailors and some fisherman drinking and enjoying themselves, others would be gossiping among each other. Ser Davos stuck closer to them, and maybe he might catch a few words from their mouths and those words could be valuable to him.

"I hear tiding of how Robett Glover is trying to raise men in the city to take back Deepwood Motte, but Lord Manderly refused to help him." One of the sailors said.

"What of the Dustins and Ryswells, they're joining Roose Bolton to fight the ironmen at Moat Cailan." A second sailor replied.

"A small portion of House Umber have joined the Boltons, led by Hother Whoresbane." A third sailor interjected.

"Manderly better join Bolton too."

"The lions have Lord Manderly's son."

"I thought the Freys killed his son." Ser Davos said, causing the sailors to face him and stop talking for a while.

"The Lannisters killed one son, Wendel, but the other son Wylis is still a prisoner of the throne."

The news dismayed Davos; he knew from a father's point of view of how he would do anything for his sons, if they came to harm. A sense of kinship made the Onion Knight sympathise with Lord Manderly for such circumstances. The former smuggler did not like the Queen Selyse much, but began to understand why she wanted to keep her son away from marriage; he was her only boy and would do anything to keep him with her.

"I hear of how dragons have some again, and the Mad King's daughter has tamed them." The first sailor said, with wide eyes.

"No one knows the name of the princess, she is half a world away." The second sailor wondered.

"The name of the Targaryen princess is Daenerys. I do not know what came of her; she might sail back one day." Ser Davos said, in a neutral tone.

"Sail back? I talked with the steward of the _Sloe-Eyed Maid_ in Pentos, who told me of how a silver haired girl with three dragons tried to book passage with them to Westeros, but the captain turned her away." A Braavosi oarsman spoke out.

Ser Davos was intrigued, of how creatures from long ago have returned to the world. It reminded him of one of the books Prince Jacob borrowed from Oldtown, which was about the Valyrians and the dragons of the long age. The Onion Knight knew at the back of his mind of how the captain's voyage ended badly, refusing worldly royalty was something no man should have done, especially if the princess had fire breathing monsters at her command.

" _ **One day, I would take Steffon, Stannis and Devan to see those dragons someday. They would be excited, still being children."**_

The thoughts of his sons turned to Prince Jacob, and what the robber lord said about him. Ser Davos didn't take insults to his prince lightly, even though what the Lord of Sweetsister said was true about the prince being almost like his father. Loyalty made Davos ignore Prince Jacob's flaws, such as lack of niceties, a hardened heart from battles and loss and an unpleasant demeanour towards women.

Ser Davos didn't blame the prince for his flaws, for his father and mother taught him to be strong.

* * *

The Onion Knight began to leave the winesink, with the stench getting onto his cloths. he didn't look back; a sit was den for the drunken fools and gossipers with nothing better to do with themselves.

The bustling of the people outside the Fishfoot Yard made the Onion Knight dwell on the diplomatic mission he had to complete on the command of his king, and if it was worth making the plea to Lord Manderly for King Stannis's cause to fight back against the Freys and Boltons.

" _ **I cannot give up, if I did, then I would have disgraced myself, as Hand of the King, as a subject of my king and my family. I came all this way to plead my king's cause and I will. Of all the lords, I was chosen for this mission, to gain the Manderlys as allies for my king and find the prince a wife."**_

His mind thought towards the knight of Greyshield, a man Ser Davos didn't trust much, but the man was a worshipper of the Seven, which made him more likely to find friends among the King's Men.

Sorrell Grimm was a man capable of looking out for the prince, whilst the Onion Knight was away.

Ser Davos was far from the Lazy Eel, but he wouldn't have been in there for nothing. With some of the sailors' gossip told about how some of the Northern lords were coerced to serve the Boltons, only to fight a common enemy down at Moat Calian, to liberate the castle from the Ironborn.

Being so far from the Wall reminded the knight of a crude story told to the remaining Queen's Men at the feast before his departure from Eastwatch, by Ser Axell Florent, the last of Prince Jacob's uncles with Alester burned for treason and his Baratheon uncles Robert and Renly were dead.

The uninvited Florent man had slyly compared Davos to an ape in prince's clothing, which earned him the ire of Prince Jacob. Ser Axell was an arrogant man, who only obeyed Queen Selyse, but he would obey his great nephew and his king, when he was commanded to.

" _ **Ser Axell should be careful with his words. He doesn't have the favour of the king and his heir. He proclaimed himself Leader of the Queen's Men, being alike with the men who worship the religion of the Red Woman. Underneath the arrogance, Ser Axell envies me'; I have the favour of the king and prince, whilst he only has the favor of the unforgiving Queen."**_

Ser Davos has been through too much to get to White Harbor, to at least attempt to fulfil his diplomatic duty to his king. He kept his letters to himself, with gold and black to symbolise the true sigil of House Baratheon, before the variation of flags and sigils during the War of the Five Kings.

The Onion Knight began to climb the hill, it is quite grand, but he had climbed it before. This time he was alone and wearing a disguise to keep him from being killed. The proud and pale castle of New Castle had thick white halls, with the merman of House Manderly flies from the towers and the gates of the castle were closed and had armed guards standing outside of the keep.

" _ **King Stannis is no friend of Lord Manderly, calling him fat, useless and a coward. The man is weary from all the fighting and politics, whom can blame him when one son is dead and the other a captive of the enemy. A marriage pact with Prince Jacob might sway the lord to abandon his fruitless alliance with the Freys, for a suitable match."**_

Ser Davos cleared his throat, not knowing how this would end. Lord Manderly's living son was being held hostage by the usurpers, who hold Stannis's throne. It could dampen his chances of being able to persuade a high lord, weary of war and politics to put his house and his honour on the line with a possibility of being the grandfather of a Queen.

He had gotten to the top of the hill. The high castle made Ser Davos feel small, and he caught his eye on a guard, who had taken notice of him.

At the corner of his eye, the Onion Knight sees twenty-three new warships in the inner harbor. It was what the apple seller told him of the merman lord preparing for war, with new ships and recruiting soldiers to patrol the city of White Harbor.

"What is your business?" A guard asked; he emerged from the gate to address the man in common cloths.

Davos showed him the black and gold ribbon, baring royal seals. "I need to see Lord Manderly at once." He said, "My business is with him, and with him alone."

"Lord Manderly is hosting guests from House Frey. It would not be prudent to disturb him." The guard replied.

"My business is of urgency."

"You dress like a common peasant, but you carry royal seals."

The guards seized the knight, by more of the guard appeared. Ser Davos expected it, coming to the castle of a lord weary of strangers and those he views as traitors. The guards were not, as rough as the ones serving the robber lord of Sweetsister. He had gotten this far, to fulfil his mission to his king and now the knight would have to play the game of high lords for his own survival.


	7. Jacob II

**A/N: In this chapter I wanted to add a sense of vulnerability to Jacob, and to give a reason why he is the person he is.**

* * *

 **Chapter Seven – Jacob II  
**

The grumbling of the men in the council chamber bored the rightful Prince of the Seven Kingdoms.

He was surrounded by the King's Men, Queen's Men and some of his father's remaining bannermen and commanders. He sat on his father's right, in the high place of honour. Jacob ran his hand across his bearded face in boredom; his eyes were rolled, whilst his father didn't see his bored son's face.

The prince caught his eye on Sorrell, who sat among the King's Men. Jacob had begun to trust Sorrell a lot more; the man was more than just his sworn shield, but was his ally. The prince couldn't hold back hard tears from falling from his eyes, being apart from Davos affected him more than he let on. Jacob saw a collection of letters by his father and most of them were replied from Northern houses, whom were either going to refuse his father's kingship or swear his fealty, as the rightful king of the Seven Kingdoms.

" _ **All of them are rejections, apart from a reply from the leech Arnolf Karstark. I met the man once, and he is an untrustworthy player. The man always envied those in his family higher in status than he was; his son Cregan is a snake and must be vying for the lordship of Karhold if they succeed in throwing Alys into my arms and out of their household."**_

The return of Ser Richard and Ser Justin displeased Jacob more; he was no friend of any of the Queen's Men, but as heir to the throne most of them had no choice to obey him. Uncle Axell being the foolish pounce he was, would never object to anything his great nephew told him to do, being one of his last remaining uncles living and desperately seeking his favour.

The heir to the throne cleaned himself up; to look presentable in front of the lords of the council. He was clad in the colours of his mother's house, with his gold and black furs over his shoulders. His hair was tied in a sufficient ponytail, his beard was trimmed with some of the men able to recognise him.

The doors of the chamber open for Jon to arrive, to see the two wildings and Melisandre present.

Jacob didn't want to look at the Red Woman in the eye, for she would capture him in her evil spell. His father was a fool to bring her here, this was a war council meeting and she had no place in it. Leaving her at the Wall will be his one wish, with her foreign power being what scared him more than being on the battlefield again. As a worshipper of the Faith, the Red Woman's religion had no place in the Seven Kingdoms, whilst his father was on the path to kingship and needed the Faith and the High Septon to turn against the Lannister-Tyrell coalition and turn to the prince and his father.

"Rattleshirt will be under your watch, Lord Commander." The Red Woman informed.

"The man cannot be trusted." Jon protested.

The Lady Melisandre shows Jon the red ruby gem, on the wildling's wrist. "He is bound to me, blood and soul. As long as he wears the gem, he will serve you faithfully."

"My father summoned you to this war council for a reason. I know you wouldn't want to be seen as partial to him in the game of thrones. As a former guest of the Starks, I do not know much about the northern lords, but as a man born and raised in the North, you have knowledge my father wishes to know, as the northmen will be fighting under our banner." Prince Jacob said, in a neutral tone.

"The northmen would look to His Grace's son as an eligible husband for any of their unmarried daughters, as His Grace the prince will need to choose wisely from the more loyal of Northern houses, and not those who turned to the Boltons."

"Foolishness, his words are useless, Your Grace." Ser Godry objected.

Jacob's father Stannis ignore the man's provocation. Ser Godry Farring was one of the Queen's Men, but one of the more foolish ones. The prince didn't appreciate the man disrespecting one of his last remaining friends in the world. If Ser Godry said anymore, then he would have been sent out on the prince's orders for insubordination and contributing nothing to the war council.

"I want to know if Mors Umber can be trusted to bend the knee to me." King Stannis asked.

"I would advise you to take his oath, Your Grace." Jon replied.

"It will only bring me half of the Umber forces."

"Father, half of the forces is better than none. Hother Whoresbane is only fighting for the Boltons because of the Greatjon being a prisoner of the Red Wedding." Prince Jacob interjected.

"It would be prudent, if His Grace shall listen to the council of his heir than some upstart bastard." One of the Queen's Men sneered.

The prince never understood why men like these swore their loyalty to his mother Queen Selyse and the religion of the Red Woman. It's mostly due to them wanting to push their superiority among everyone else. Prince Jacob held the hilt of his sword, itching to kill the man, who dared to insult Jon.

"I plan to leave the Wall to take on the Bolton bastard at the Dreadfort unaware. Lord Arnolf has been urging me to attack claiming it is lightly garrisoned." The king announced.

"The plan will fail, Your Grace." The Lord Commander foretold.

Many of the Queen's Men were scorned, and most of them should have stayed at Eastwatch with his mother and his sister. Prince Jacob placed a hand over his head; it was better when Uncle Axell was controlling these sorts of men, they would listen to him, being their leader and his mother's best man. The prince glared at Ser Godry, being the main troublemaker, but Jacob's father ignored him and the rest of the Queen's Men.

"Silence, explain why my plan will fail, Lord Commander." The king said, in an iron tone. Silencing the Queen's Men with fear.

"Unless, you win over Mors Umber to your cause. His forces will cut yours to pieces, as it crosses his lands. Second, the Dreadfort will learn of your coming, long before Lord Bolton's arrival, a small garrison can hold the castle against men many times their number. The combined armies of Ramsay and Roose Bolton will outnumber you five to one, and will easily destroy you, as you lay siege to the Dreadfort. The northern lords you seek to rally to your cause, whom have suffered generations of wildlings pillaging their lands, will not be pleased to see the wildlings crossing their lands."

"It would be wise. Mors Umber offered his fealty on the conditions of having the skull of the burnt wilding king, a pardon for his brother Whoresbane, who is fighting under duress for the Boltons, due to his nephew being prisoner of the Freys." The prince replied.

"The Lord Commander is a coward, do not listen to him, Your Grace." One of his father's cowardly captains objected, urging the prince to want to slap him at the back of his head.

"You are all excused, apart from the Lord Commander and my son." The king commanded, with all the captains, bannermen and other men exiting the chamber.

* * *

Prince Jacob was glad, not to have any of those rebellious Queen's Men around. He will have to speak with Uncle Axell about disciplining the troublemakers in the war council. In his mind, Jacob knew Jon's knowledge was vital, and dismissing it would be a foolish mistake. As a former guest of the North, Jacob may know some of the noble houses, but he wasn't a man born and raised the North to know every detail about their lords and ladies. It must have been the reason why his father needed to keep Jon close to him.

In the chamber, it was just him, his father, Jon and the Lady Melisandre. The Red Woman's glare bristled the prince; he would be glad to never see her again, having to continue the war for his father, and giving him counsel. Jacob knew his father was a soldier, a commander and not one for playing the game of thrones, it was why he was needed by his side.

"You should consider my offer of Winterfell to you." King Stannis said, in a quieter tone.

"I cannot accept, Your Grace. Sansa is the rightful heir and I cannot forsake my vows." Jon refused, with his father's disgust fairly showing on his face.

On the other hand, Jacob was glad his father's ire was not directed at him for once, but understood why Jon refused the offer. For the sake of his honour, as a man of the Night's Watch and the Lord Commander; he was responsible for leading and organising the black brothers, making decisions on the wildling prisoners still stationed at the Wall and to prevent another civil war between the wildlings and the Night's Watch.

"I plan to reward Winterfell to Arnolf Karstark." The king said, reading through the unread letters.

"The Karstarks abandoned my half-brother in the war. He personally beheaded Lord Rickard for killing two Stark prisoners."

"Those prisoners being the sons of Ser Kevan Lannister, the sheep holding the throne for the child king." Prince Jacob said.

"I haven't heard from Davos in days. The absence is a sign of White Harbor being a lost cause."

"I promise a source of more men, if you allow me to keep the wildlings at the Wall, to occupy more of the abandoned forts, Your Grace." The Lord Commander said to the king.

"The decision is wise; the wildlings should stay on the Wall. The Northerners are already sceptical of us as it is, fighting a war against the staunch lords is one we cannot afford." The prince interjected.

"Recruiting the mountain clans would be more sufficient, with them being loyal to my father's memory. I suggest marching through the mountains to win the clansmen to your side, and then attack Deepwood Motte to defeat the Ironmen to rally the north on your side." Jon suggested.

"The plan is likely to be a success and it will impress the northmen enough for them to flock to my banners." The king agreed.

"I will have to warn you, Your Grace. The clansmen are deeply devout to the Old Gods, the presence of the Lady Melisandre will not be welcome."

"I will remain at the Wall with the queen and the princess." The Lady Melisandre said.

"The Ironborn would be weakened, only the dead craven's daughter remains in the castle, not having the full strength of the Iron Fleet or Ironborn men. She will be a worthy hostage, to get rid of the remaining Ironborn still in the North." The prince mused.

The prince's father rubbed his jaw. "When Balon Greyjoy rose against my brother, I beat the ironmen at sea, where they are the strongest. On land, taken unaware….aye. I won a victory over the wildlings and their King Beyond the Wall, with my son leading another half of my host. If I can smash the ironmen again, the north will know it has a king again."

"You are excused, Lord Commander." The prince said, rising his hand, signalling the Red Woman to leave as well.

"Of course, Your Grace."

The prince may be the closest person to his father Stannis, but he never understood why he made the choices he did. He wouldn't make the same choices himself, being the more politically minded of the two. Jacob was excited to continue the war, to have the opportunity to slaughter the remaining Ironborn in the North, along with the Boltons and Freys. At the back of his mind, the prince could see the anguish of his mother, begging his father not to send him to war again, having returned twice with scars and being scared for him. His mother was right to be afraid, he was the only son of a dying house and he was the future of House Baratheon, whether he liked it or not.

* * *

With the Red Woman and the Lord Commander left the council chamber; it was the prince and his father alone. Prince Jacob was less talkative, during the council meeting. He didn't want to impose on his father; he sensed his father must be angry with him, not wanting to tell the prince to his face.

"Do you have faith in Davos completing his diplomatic mission, Jacob?" Stannis said, in an iron tone.

"The Onion Knight has never failed you. He will succeed even if he has to give his life for you." Jacob replied.

"Marrying Arnolf's niece will happen after we have recaptured Winterfell."

"It's not a wise decision, father. I met this castellan once and know enough. The man and his relatives are snakes, they only pledged themselves to us in order to have Harrion killed by the Lannisters, and then assume the lordship of old Rickard's lands."

"You still hold hope for Davos securing the Manderly alliance."

"I know the urgency to marry quickly, it's only a matter of time before our enemies realise how my youth could cost them their allies. I would like to know why after Uncle Renly's death, why haven't you engaged me to Maid Margaery when you had the chance."

"The Tyrells and the Florents have been feuding, since the beginning of days. Such a marriage would not happen, if I had my way. Mace Tyrell and the fool Paxter Redwyne thought they could starve me into submission, since then your mother and I agreed to put all notions of such an alliance out of the window. On the other hand, I don't like any of these bannermen at all, especially the lickspittles that came over after Renly's death. I must make use for them, but the prideful Lord of Highgarden would cut off his left foot, before he would allow your mother's family to grasp power from him and his ilk. Unlike those loyal to the Tyrells, the ladies Melessa and Rhea, first cousins of yours once removed are married to powerful lords, who could persuade their husbands not to take arms against you."

"Speaking off first cousins once removed, what happened to Lord Alekyne Florent." Jacob asked.

"The last I heard, the man is seeking refuge in the Hightower to flee from the fat flower's second son and his army." Stannis answered.

"Do any of them know I'm alive?"

"They do not need to know, most in the south believe you to be dead and I would like to keep it that way. Let the dishonourables fight amongst themselves, and then Tyrell's own lords can turn on him."

"You shouldn't doubt Davos' loyalty to you. He is one of the only men, who stayed with you when we endured the loss on the Blackwater. He had to bare your own harsh and boorish character and never disobeyed you. You should reward him greatly, if he is able to secure White Harbor and a wife for me."

"You would choose a girl from Manderly's brood rather than marrying the Karstark girl."

"Father, we do not have much. We need provisions, food, men and gold to continue the war further and maybe survive the coming winter. If mother had her way, she would leave me unmarried and allowed the lords of Westeros to fight amongst themselves, it sounds more of an attractive idea than marrying anyone at all."

"Are you afraid of the sept, Jacob or are you trying to test my patience?" The king gritted between his teeth.

"As my father and king, it's your duty to inform mother and Shireen, who I will be marrying, unless you will inform her of not marrying me off anytime soon."

"Do you remember the wedding tourney you attended in Robert's stead? How you won the melee and attempted to win the hand of Lord Tyrell's daughter? It's their loss, you would have made a fine husband to whomever Robert had chosen from the Reacher families."

"Was it true what Uncle Renly said? Of how you, Uncle Robert and Jon Arryn were scheming to marry me off to Maid Margaery. Mother would not have liked it at all, along with the other Florents, whom most despise the Tyrells."

"It is true, but the wedding tourney put an end to those plans. Renly was always complaining, of how difficult it was to find you a suitable betrothal; he and Robert placed blame on me for some of your _unappealing_ qualities, as if I raised you to be unlikable. I raised you to be a great man, but your uncles will always find fault in me, because of the rejections of potential brides and not being any closer to finding a betrothal. The reason why Robert was seeking out the Reacher families is because a king's nephew is desirable to them, after his own pretender children. You could be the foulest man in the Seven Kingdoms, and those courtly lords would still take you, as a husband for one of their maiden daughters, not out of love, but a desire to be closer to power and Iron Throne."

"You never told me any this before. Why now? Are you afraid of losing me to the war or marriage?"

"The war is tiring me out, Jacob. After this chaos and anarchy is over, I would like to meet my grandson before my eventual death. Of all the useless men and knights, I have around me, you are the only true man I trusted and had faith in, not because you are my son. You give me good council, advise me against those who wilfully try to ruin my campaign and still held faith in the Onion Knight, even though I mistrusted him, much to my regret."

"Ser Davos will return. He hasn't failed you yet, he stuck with you when lesser men abandoned you on the Blackwater. I assisted him in his learning to read and write, so he could be a good Hand to you and he was willing to be executed if it meant serving you well. You shouldn't doubt his loyalty; The Onion Knight's allegiance and honour is rare in Westeros, even the Florents who are only loyal because of me being the next king and my mother being Queen."

Jacob was amused, to see a smile appear on the face of his normally grim-faced father. "The day you were born, Robert feasted and drank until the morning. I gathered he was only delighted to have a nephew, who resembled him more than the children his wife bore. The next day, he would jest of how the Tyrells would be shitting themselves, not only was their claim to Highgarden fraudulent, as Lord Alester would say, a trueborn nephew of the king had the blood of the Gardener kings in his veins, it put more fear in the Tyrells and made them more cowardly and craven in that regard."

The prince began to laugh. It was a humourous image to see the Lord of Highgarden fearing for his wealth and position of power. Jacob was no friend of Mace Tyrell, after rejecting his suit for Margaery's hand and desperately wanting to suck up to his Uncle Robert. He knew the Fat Flower would be dead soon, and how Willas would make a better lord than his incompetent and short-minded father.

"Ironrath is still in hands of those traitor Whitehills. It would be prudent if you sent me to lead a force against them." Jacob asked.

"It would be foolish, I need you with me when we take Deepwood Motte. The Glovers know you and negotiations with them will be easier to stomach than if you were absent from my side." Stannis replied.

"I need to speak with the Lord Commander, before we leave the Wall. He might be able to listen to a man his own age, then one old enough to be his father."

"I would warn you, your friendship with the bastard boy will not end well. I need you to be focused and ready to counsel me always.

The prince lowered his head; he didn't want to listen to his father, only because he was wrong. He doesn't believe in having friends because he was bitter and cold himself. Jacob did things on his own terms, and didn't care for what his father suggested. He was going to speak with his old friend alone.

* * *

The abundance of wildlings on the Wall made Prince Jacob a lot more aware of his surroundings. He didn't care for them much, only if they didn't cross into the North and ruin his father's chances of getting the northmen under his banner.

The war council was on his mind, and how Jacob would have to face the field again and he will have to be strong, like the stag of his house sigil. He was the antlered warrior the wildlings saw cut down their forces in the snows, he was the iron prince who struck fear into the hearts of the enemy and his own men.

The man of eight and ten didn't care what others around him thought, he was to be their king and they would have to respect him. If they didn't, then they would join other treasonous men in the grave.

Some of the wildlings were intimated, looking away from the iron prince's scar under and above his eye. The scar was from the Battle of Blackwater, his first real battle. He begun to like the edged scar, it made him look fearsome and a warrior.

The prince went into the Lord Commander's Tower; its entrance still smelled like old smoke and the fire, which killed the Old Bear Commander. Some parts of the tower were restored, in no part done by brothers of the Watch, who still respected their Lord Commander, unlike some of the others.

A whisper escaped through the walls of the tower; the haunting voice echoed in the air. The first floor had been restored, even though the second was ruined. The whispers made Prince Jacob shiver through his bones, it was a haunted tower and he didn't understand why his old friend stayed there.

The prince pulled the door open, to see Jon in his small office. He didn't want to cause any discord between the Lord Commander and his king father. Prince Jacob only wanted to be the peacemaker, and to soothe things between the two sides. He gulped, not knowing how this conversation will go.

"I didn't expect you to come here, Your Grace." Jon said, looking at the prince in a stern manner.

"I wanted the opportunity to speak with you, before my father and I leave Castle Black." Jacob replied.

"You know how to reason with your father, even when other men are fearful of him."

"I am to rule after him. I know he can be blunt, angry and uptight, I fear for my father. The war is taking much from him, but he still has his strength and his will to fight. I'm not sure if the mountain clans will be welcoming of an Andal Faith worshipper like myself into their halls."

"As long as you appease them and give them a reason to fight for you."

"I heard things from your other black brothers, the ones who hate you. Is it true you had a wildling lover and it's why most of them hate you?"

"Why would that be of interest to you, Your Grace?" The Lord Commander wondered.

"I believe we have more in common than a persistent for honour and justice."

"My black brothers, they think of you as emotionless and cold. I believe them in some regard, but I would like to hear your side of the story, Your Grace?

Jacob's eyes softened, he hated himself for having any sense of vulnerability. "I wasn't always cold, Lord Commander. There was a time when I did have feelings, but I locked them away when various people I cared about started to die off like flies. I'll tell you a story, something I only told the Onion Knight and no one else. I might have slipped a few words to my sister, but she would bestow pity on me, as if she could make me feel better."

"I'm interested to hear it, Your Grace."

"I always envied the more handsome men, like my uncle Renly, Ser Loras and your brother Robb. The jolly and friendly fools, they could get anyone to like them for nothing. My father raised me to be a strong lord, and a strong lord I became. I was sent to Highgarden when I was young, to be raised in the home of a man, who almost starved my father to death. When I came of age; I won a melee and asked for Margaery Tyrell's hand, but her father rejected my suit. I know what men say about me, how I am uncaring or have no love in my heart. There was a time I did. I did love someone, but that love soured and rotted like a past gone peach."

"You were kind to Samwell, even when other brothers of the Watch make japes at his expense."

"Samwell is kin to me, his mother Melessa being my first cousin once removed from House Florent, it's difficult to recall any of my relatives, most of them I have never met and others I have met once. None of them are true to me, Jon. They only see me as advancement for House Florent and nothing more.

"Is it the reason why you are closer to your Baratheon kin than your Florent kin?"

"Being fostered in the Reach wasn't so bad; the fruit harvested tasted great, the wine was sweeter and there was always a tourney once in a moon. As a ward of the Tyrells, I was accustomed to meeting with their bannermen on a regular basis. I…. took a liking to Lord Redwyne's daughter Desmera, she was one of the only girls in the Reach who didn't fear me. She was a beauty, but not a greater beauty than her cousin Maid Margaery. Her visits to Highgarden were the only times I had with her, before she went home to the Arbor. I began to resent her, for crawling her way into my heart without permission. I loved Desmera, but I was foolish to think she was any different to the power hungry southerners. Her father commanded her to stop seeing me, as Lord Redwyne was to betroth her to some lord. I guessed the lucky groom was Dickon Tarly, reasonable boy and dutiful son to his father. I would have been happy for them both, much to my displeasure. Paxter Redwyne hated my father and wanted revenge for his and Mace Tyrell's ill thought siege. He would rather cut off his sword hand rather suffice the idea of his only daughter's courtly love being the son of Stannis Baratheon."

"Why would tell me all this, Your Grace? I'm just the Lord Commander, doesn't your father know."

"No….I trust the Onion Knight with secrets like these. My father makes it no secret he held his grudge against the Reacher lords, who tried to starve him. Rightfully so, the bannermen of the Fat Flower underestimated my father's strength and will. He may not have as much as the other usurpers in this war, but my father never forgot why he was fighting for the throne. For the kingdoms to have a strong ruler to repair the realm and to avenge the dishonour on our house."

"Admirable goals, Your Grace. You have changed, you were not the man I met at Winterfell, who treated me like an equal among Lord Stark's trueborn children."

"War changes people, Jon. I have killed a great deal of men, and I am going to kill more. As a southerner, it will be a challenge to survive the northern snowstorms. I will endure it for my father, as I must do everything else."

"My apologises, Your Grace. For refusing your father's offer, I stand by my vows to the Night's Watch."

"It matters not, you have honour. Ned Stark and your brother Robb had honour, but honour and ignorance of the game has led them to the grave. My father will get over it; he has more important things to focus on and might reward Winterfell to a loyal Northman. Rest assure, I will never allow that snake Arnolf and his kin to have the seat of House Stark, as long as I have my father's ear and counsel. I know an opportunist when I see one, and Arnolf Karstark is no different than a Tyrell."

"I guess this will the last time we will speak with one another." The Lord Commander said.

"I will miss it, having someone trustworthy around me. I don't have men like you around, only Sorrell, but he is not for small talk being my sworn shield. Lord Davos is away and I do not know when he will be returning to my father's side."

"The Night's Watch is grateful for the assistance provided from you and your father, Your Grace. It's good to see a king, who cares for the struggles of the Wall. With most of them fighting a war, I didn't expect any help to come to the Wall."

"You should meet Ser Davos one day; he would appreciate another man of honour such as himself. He maybe of humble birth, but he knew better than most of those lords and bannermen, who would rather leave Castle Black to be sacked and pillaged by the wildlings. I hope to see my mother and sister again, before I take the field once more."

The thought of his mother Selyse and sister Shireen softened the prince's heart. He has grown accustomed to being separated from the most important people in his life. As a prince, a warrior and the last son of House Baratheon, it was Jacob's duty to assist his father on the field of battle and in war councils. He was a man of eight and ten, but his beard and physical changes made him look older, which made him look every inch a warrior of the Stormlands. However, he had shrewd intelligence, from being taken under the wing of the Queen of Thorns, as a young child and learned the game of the high lords through a clever, sharp old woman, who had power through her oaf son.

Jacob was going to miss Jon; it didn't matter because could make new friends among the northerners, who are rebelling against the Boltons and Freys. As the heir of Stannis Baratheon, he wasn't afraid of lords, who would flay their enemies rather than face them on the field or those, who would hide under a bridge to avoid a war. He may not like war, but he only fought for the memory for his Uncle Robert, who had been made a motley of by the Lannisters and his council.

The prince was older and might be strong enough to wield his uncle's Warhammer. He had trained with it when he was younger. He would like to smash the hammer between the ribs of the Kingslayer, the Leech Lord and the Lord Troll of the Twins, who should be living under the bridge, like the rest of his hideous kind. He ached to be with his mother, he maybe a man grown, but he still needed his mother's comforts until he was to go to war again.

Jacob was glad not to be here any longer. His thirst for blood was greater than it was before, and his sword _Limos_ hungered for it. The prince was willing to oblige his sword's need for traitor's blood, and the blood of those who stand in his father's path towards his rightful throne.


	8. The Light Of The North

**A/N: I wanted to write a chapter in this point of view; I wanted to convey her fear and dread of losing her son more.**

* * *

 **Chapter Eight – The Light of the North (ADWD)**

" _ **My son will never go back to the field. I almost lost him to the Blackwater and against the savages beneath the wall."**_ The Queen thought solemnly, whilst sitting on a bronzed chair with many of her Queen's Men, sworn knights and ladies with her.

Queen Selyse Baratheon was impatient; she wasn't comfortable in Eastwatch and voiced her complaints. The men from the Watch, whom were stationed here tried to appease her and her men, but it proved to be futile. The accommodations were not to her standards, and the commander of the castle Cotter Pyke didn't make her stay welcoming at all.

She and her daughter Princess Shireen were stationed here, whilst her son and her husband were at Castle Black. Her heart ached to see her son again, she loathed to be separated from him again and she despaired for his life every time Jacob went to the field.

" _ **Jacob is a prince and his father's heir. His duty to be by his father's side, no matter my objections. Stannis will send my boy to the battlefield again, many mothers have lost their sons to this war, and I will not lose mine to the snowstorms of the North."**_

On the journey to the Wall, Selyse pleaded with Stannis not to send Jacob to war again. He had returned with scars on his face. She pitied him; of how her son's good looks were ruined and how no one will want to marry a scarred man. The queen would get the same answer every time she tried.

Her son was heir to the Iron Throne. Jacob was to rule after his father and him fighting the further battles proves how a prince should be on the field and by his king's side. Selyse saw how her son has changed physically; he was not the same boy who sailed to Storm's End with his father.

Jacob had grown up throughout this war. He had become a man and his growth of beard was proof of how like his late drunken uncle he was in looks. Selyse knew Jacob was not a little boy anymore, no more would he run to her when he had an accident or if something had upset him. He was a man grown, has seen the battlefield and has killed men by his own hand.

Behind her stood Uncle Axell, who proclaimed himself Hand of the Queen and leader of the Queen's Men. Selyse wasn't blind to the tensions between her uncle and her son, as both believed in different gods and their views were not alike. Her son protected the simpering fools of the King's Men, whilst her uncle led the Queen's Men. The differences were always there, but it wasn't as if Jacob hated Ser Axell like he did Lord Alester for committing treason against the king, the prince and those within the king's court.

"It's been so long, since I last saw my son. It was on the ship before he went straight to the field again." Selyse said.

"Jacob is the heir, my queen. It is his duty to be by his father's side." Uncle Axell replied.

"This could be the last time I will see my son, before Stannis sends him off to another war."

"Prince Jacob is a fearsome warrior, he must fight the war further. As much as you would like him to stay with you, the boy is a man and he must fight alongside the king."

"A letter was sent from my husband, he will be informing me which northern girl will marry my son and will be birthing my grandchildren in the future."

"It's the king's prerogative, my queen. The king does as he sees fit. I do not like it, Your Grace. The prince should marry a lady with some kind of refinements from the south, but the king has made his choice and will tell us in due time."

"I want to meet her, uncle. The woman who will be Jacob's Queen and my good daughter, but my husband said Shireen and I would be much safer on the Wall. I will never see my son get married, it's one of the things a mother looks forward to when their children grow up, maybe, I will be there on the day Shireen gets married, but Jacob is my son. I will never get to see him experiencing joy and happiness for the first time, since his uncle Robert got him that grey horse on his eighth nameday."

"That horse looks at me, as if it wants to trample on me, dear niece. A southern horse was not meant for such weather." Ser Axell said sourly.

"The grey horse makes my children happy, and their happiness comes before my own wishes. As a mother, I want to keep Jacob from the grave, but he somehow yearns for it. It showers him with glory and Stannis doesn't deter Jacob from fighting at all." It's Jacob's duty as his father's son and heir to be on the battlefield, no matter how it pains Selyse in her heart to think of losing Jacob to the war.

"Uncle, get the men organised. My husband and son will be arriving soon, and a meal shall be prepared for when they arrive." The Queen commanded.

"Of course, Your Grace." Ser Axell said.

Selyse trusted her uncle, he was the only man she trusted to be loyal to her and lead the Queen's Men. She still prayed to R'hllor's fires from time to time, but it wasn't the same without the Lady Melisandre guiding her. The Red Priestess brought nothing but goodness to her husband's cause, and she would remain on the Wall, since war camps and the battlefield were no place for a woman.

The fool Patchface with his green and red checked motley on; he was entertaining her daughter, some of her ladies and other members of the king's court stationed here. The fool was Shireen's only companion, and was there for her when she had to be separated from her brother again. Her little girl will smile for her brother and father will be arriving soon. It will only be short term, how can Selyse explain to Shireen of how her brother will be at war and will not come back for some time.

"I will ask to have the commanders of the castle changed. I don't like this man, he is unpleasant and doesn't know how to respect royalty." Queen Selyse complained.

"I'm sure the king will think of something, Your Grace." Ser Axell replied.

"The box with the crowned stag on it, uncle. My son is ready, to assume his uncle's warhammer and prove himself further on the battlefield." The queen said gleefully.

"Dear niece, this marriage the king has arranged will be the final symbol of the prince leaving boyhood behind and finally becoming a man. It takes a man to endure marriage and to be a father to future heirs to the throne."

"I can't bear it, uncle. The thought of Jacob being sent to the field again and he may never come back to me alive."

Selyse placed a hand over her face. A few tears were falling from her eyes, at the thought of never seeing her son again. As the Queen, she didn't have the power to keep her boy from the grave or from the blood and death the war brought on him. The idea of honour and glory showered Jacob with a sense of determination and blinded him to the thought of how death will affect those who loved him.

Selyse knew her son's duty was to be by his father's side at all times, but if she had her way, then Jacob would be umarried throughout the rest of the war and would settle down to a southern bride of her choosing, but she cannot argue with her lord husband on such matters.

Selyse maybe the rightful Queen, but in the end, she had to obey Stannis's orders and stomach the realisation of having a northerner for a good daughter. All her thoughts of her husband's choice of a northern wife for her son were not laced in niceties. She will try to be kind to her son's eventual wife, only because the girl had no say in matters. The girl will be Jacobs's queen and Shireen will end up having a new sister. It would be good for Shireen, to have another female noble around her, instead of being surrounded by the Queen's Men and the queen's own serving girls and ladies.

"The King has ordered the Lady Melisandre to stay on the Wall. He has a point; the battlefield is no place for a woman and she would be killed by those savage northmen." Ser Axell grumbled, with malice in his tongue.

"Silence, uncle. You will remember your future queen will be a northerner. You will keep your opnions to yourself in such matters. The king has decided, my boy will marry a girl from the North and secure a great alliance." Queen Selyse replied.

"Dear niece. The king is stubborn and will not change his mind. Poor Jacob, the boy will be forced to bed a girl, who believes in those dead trees of the forest. His bride should at least be a girl, who believes in the same faith as him."

"It is done, uncle. It cannot be undone. It's the King's wishes and Jacob would be a fool to dismiss his father's order. He is desperate to please his father, to have his forgiveness for the treason committed with the smuggler Davos."

The queen grumbled, she despised the smuggler Davos, a man her husband deemed worthier than his fellow knights and lords around him. Selyse held her tongue, for the sake of her son and to not distance him further from her. Her boy, who had come back from the south with a scar under her eye and his hair was greyer than an old man's hair. There were a few muffled voices from outside of the rooms the Queen and most of her sworn knights, men at arms, lady companions and serving girls for her daughter. She rose from her chair, with all the dignity and honour of a true queen with her flamed crown upon her head.

* * *

Her eyes caught on the sight of her husband Stannis with the same styled crown on his head. He looked gaunt and his eyes were full of sternness. He was in the black furs, whilst his armour had the sigil of the stag and the heart of the Lord of Light on his breastplate. The knights and most of her companions kneeled before the king, and he allowed them to rise on their feet. He ignored most of them, most of the Queen's Men wanted to the favour of the king, but that favour had to be earned.

Her son Jacob appeared with his father; he looked more like his father, but his beard looked to have been trimmed and his furs had a gold trim with his cloak being black. His hair was in a ponytail, the queen's eyes were upon her son's scars. Selyse feared Jacob's looks were ruined by them, no woman will marry her boy, only for gaining tokens of his victory against the savages beneath the Wall.

"Jacob…." Shireen exclaimed, rushing over to hug her brother. With her arms around her brother.

A smile appeared on the face of Jacob, being reunited with his little sister. "I missed you too, little fawn. I hope you have been good for mother and Uncle Axell."

"Did the wildings hurt you, brother?" The princess asked, looking at the second scar on Jacob's left cheek, it must have been a wound from a battle-axe or a knife.

"It's only a small cut, no man can ride me down."

"Jacob, you and your sister should find a chamber in the castle. Your mother and I need to speak on important matters alone." The king said, in his usual iron tone.

"Of course, father. Come on little sister, I'll tell you more about the giant I saw at the Wall. He was a great fellow and never spoke to anyone." Jacob said, leading his sister out. With the men at arms, sworn knights and the queen's serving girls and lady companions following the prince and princess out of the sight of the king and queen.

Queen Selyse didn't expect her husband to greet her with anything, but curtesy as his wife. Their relations have been distant, since the execution of her uncle Lord Alester. The man deserved to die for being a traitor and almost having her children killed by the Lannisters. She sent Uncle Axell away, because she wanted to speak with her husband alone and maybe make him see her fear of their only son being on the battlefield.

She and her lord husband sat on the two large chairs in the main foyer. Selyse looked to the fire, as it was warm and it kept her and her retinue from freezing to death. Her heart gladdened to have her two children reunited, even if it was going to be for a short time. Jacob needed to be with his little sister and his mother before Stannis sent him to the field.

"Who will our boy be marrying? As his mother, I would like to know the name of the girl, who will be my good daughter and Shireen's good sister." Selyse asked.

"Jacob will pledge himself to the eldest granddaughter of Lord Wyman Manderly. I wanted to pledge him to the daughter of the long dead Rickard Karstark, but Jacob has refused because he believes the castellan of Karhold and his son to be snakes." Stannis replied.

"Aren't they the only house in the North, whom keep to the Seven? It's better our son had a wife, who will share his faith."

"His faith in the Seven has kept the southerners loyal to me, and it might gain the north on our side."

"I pleaded once and once again, my lord. I don't want to hear about our son freezing in the ditches of a snowstorm."

"Jacob is a man grown, woman. He will fight and will be by my side for the remainder of this war." Stannis said, in an iron tone.

"You have made all the decisions, my lord. You were the one who decided our son was to be married off to a northerner. He may rule after you and he may be your heir, but he is my son too. Doesn't his happiness count for anything?"

"Have I not consulted you on such matters, my lady?"

"You may have, my lord, but my opinions never mattered. Our son afraid, my lord. Of disappointing you again and breaking your trust, after the treason he committed with your Onion Knight."

"Things haven't changed, my lady. Our son still dislikes the Lady Melisandre, and for good reason. He wants to clear my path to the throne from any visible threats, and he believes she will be the doom of our cause."

The Queen thought her son had been influenced by the King's Men to dislike Melisandre, but she knew at the back of her mind how her son followed his own rules and never allowed others to influence his thoughts and his opinions. Selyse was glad Jacob was here, but knew he was to be gone from her. Her husband still stands by his order, to have their son on the battlefield and in the war.

"You have barred Shireen and I from attending the wedding, did you not read my messages given by Ser Godry Farring days ago." The Queen said.

"It is safer for you and Shireen to stay at the wall. The North is cold and harsh, a snowstorm is coming and enemies lurk at every corner." Stannis replied.

"I may allow a northern girl to be my good daughter, but please my lord. Don't rob me of the opportunity of seeing our son getting married."

"I will leave a portion of the Queen's Men with you and I would even leave Jacob's Reachman knight to protect our daughter."

"The Grimm knight is better off protecting our son, since you want him to die in that dreadful snowstorm."

"You will not test my patience, woman. He is a man and he will stand and fight, his boyhood days are long gone and you will have to accept it."

"As you wish, my lord."

Selyse lowered her head, it didn't matter what Stannis thought. Jacob was still her little boy, even though he was a man grown and ready to fight. The communication may have improved, but the relationship was still strained, all relating to the failures of Stannis not being able to sit on the Iron Throne and most of the other forces abandoning him for richer pickings and the Lannisters.

The Queen would keep Shireen close to her as a result. She may have had her son ripped from her by the war, but still had her daughter, her little princess and heir to the throne if Jacob died. She ignored whatever feelings she had towards her dead traitor uncle, it was his fault why the smuggler was appointed hand and why Jacob distrusted House Florent.

" _ **My son will be taken away from me again, but I must be strong for Shireen. She will need me for**_ _**days to come and will need comfort for when her brother is gone again. I am fortunate I will be seeing my boy for one last time."**_

Selyse was not alone. She had Uncle Axell with her and several loyal Queen's Men with her, apart from Sers Richard Horpe and Justin Massey, who will be journeying south with her husband and son for the rest of the war. She was confident those belligerent knights will be competent enough to keep their rightful prince safe from their enemies.

* * *

After the evening meal between all members of the royal family. Selyse sent Shireen to her chambers early, whilst her uncle and husband had things to discuss in terms of the arrangements for the protection of the queen and princess, whilst the king and prince were going to be fighting in the North and maybe further south. The tension between Jacob and Axell has decreased, and the two have learned to get along with one another. It gladdened the Queen's heart because she didn't want her son at a war of words with his last remaining uncle.

Selyse realised Jacob wasn't in his chambers, but wanted to stand at the Eastwatch balcony and see the view from the castle tower. The queen knew her son was intrigued by history and liked looking from the highest point of any castle, just to see the view outside of it. It was a habit developed from his time fostering with the scheming Tyrells and their bannermen houses. She would not have allowed her son to be fostered by those ambitious cutthroats, if she had a say in Jacob's fostering.

" _ **He doesn't speak, unless it's with his father and sister. My boy has become sullen and quiet, since his time at Castle Black. My husband informed me of his budding friendship with the bastard Lord Commander; I'm glad he put an end to it. A prince shouldn't socialise with those beneath him."**_

The queen could see by Jacob's face; of how the war has made him isolated, to have no highborn friends around him and for him not to talk to anyone, apart from those in his small circle. Long ago, before the war, Jacob had good relations with other houses, but now her boy has been branded a rebel and a traitor to the throne he is the rightful heir of, after his father.

Selyse went up the steps of the tower. She had briefly seen Ser Sorrell, her son's sworn shield, but he was as sociable as a man without a tongue. Was she right to place her hope and trust in this strange man from the south to protect her son on the battlefield?

Her eyes caught on a figure standing in the balcony with the full view of the northern landscape, covered with snow and the harsh winds blowing through. her heart ached to be separated from him again, but this was her last chance to see him, and be his mother before he was to leave her again.

Jacob looked more Baratheon than he did Florent. It was always the case, since he was born. Selyse was fortunate, he never inherited the prominent features of her house,which made her family the most mocked house in the Seven Kingdoms. She didn't like how some of his good looks reminded her of the dead pretender Renly, but the man was her son's uncle and respected it.

"Mother, I didn't see you arrive. Not with any Queen's Men." Jacob said, turning around to face his mother.

"Your father and uncle are discussing the arrangements for your sister and I." Selyse replied, not in the cold tone she would use with her uncle, but the softer tone of a mother.

"I have seen things mother, in my dreams and in my head when I was at Castle Black. I don't know what they are, but father says they are a manifestation of what men go through after fighting long wars."

"You have been fighting too long, my son."

"And I will have to fight again, for one last time. To liberate the North and Riverlands from the rule of Lannister lackeys, who are cursed by the gods."

"The North is a harsh place, Jacob. I don't want you to die out there, without me ever knowing." The Queen said, with tears falling from her eyes.

Selyse was not the kind of woman for tears and sentiment, but for her son she was willing to let her guard down, just for Jacob to see the human side of her.

To see how afraid, she was for him and his safety, as a mother to a future king and the lady of a dying great house. Jacob could see things on his own accord, it was what made him a player in the game of thrones, it was how he survived through being kidnapped and fighting a battle against unclothed savages beneath the Wall.

"I won't die, mother. I see it your eyes, you fear for me. It's been a long time, since I truly had a chance to stop and think about everything. The war and becoming someone's lord husband, it's a responsibility Uncle Robert has been preparing me for, and I will not disobey father again. I will marry the Manderly girl after we have recaptured Winterfell."

"Your father chose the Karstark girl for you, why did you refuse it. It was your father's wish for you to wed her. The Karstarks are kin to the Starks by blood, and were one of the only houses, who pledged themselves to our cause."

"Lord Rickard and his sons are dead, mother. The current castellan is a poor excuse for a man and his own son Cregan is the dirt under my shoe. I would rather die than allow those men to manipulate father and to possibly get him killed by turning their cloaks to the Boltons."

"Why choose the Manderly girl?"

"The Manderlys are the richest house of the North. The winter is coming soon, and we will need food, provisions, horses and more men to fight for us. Father may not like Lord Wyman, but his gold will help us survive the war and possibly the winter."

"You have truly grown up, war has changed you. For the good and the bad. I may see a man in front of me, but you are still my little boy. I would have chosen a southern bride for you, and stopped you from fighting the war any further. I see what it's doing to you, you will never live a normal life after the war. You knew what the Mad King's Rebellion had done to your uncle. He was never the same after all the violence and fighting."

"Mother, I knew what was happening to Uncle Robert. I saw those vultures trying to pick off his weaknesses to gain power for themselves. I regretted not being there in his hour of need, and I couldn't even say goodbye to him." Jacob said, with tears beginning to leave his eyes, and his head lowered in sadness.

Selyse opened her arms for her son to fall into them. His head was resting on her shoulder, and tears were falling from his eyes. Jacob was missing his uncle, and he couldn't express it towards his bitter father. She was the emotional pillar Jacob needed; he was surrounded by stone-hearted men, who didn't understand the concept of human emotions.

Her arms were wrapped around her son. The queen wasn't used to her boy being vulnerable in front of her, he only reserved his emotions for the smuggler hand. She hated how Jacob would rely on Davos to help him deal with his growing emotions and had not come to his own mother for advice.

Selyse knew Jacob was a grown man, and would shut out his true feelings towards his father because she knew how stubborn and hard-headed Stannis could be. Her son pulled out of her arms, and looked at the view beyond Eastwatch by the Sea. The queen herself didn't like the place, it was an empty castle near the Wall and it was where she had been stationed on her husband's orders, but if Jacob saw the beauty is such harsh lands in the North, then maybe he might be able to love the northern girl chosen for him.

"I don't want to leave. How will I explain to Shireen why I am always gone and how I never stay with her? What if I die and she doesn't understand why?" Jacob said sadly.

"Your sister is old enough to understand such things. She maybe young, but she sees what is happening around her." Selyse replied.

"She shouldn't have to. I may have had my innocence taken by Uncle Robert's death, but I don't want Shireen to have her childhood taken away from her by war and strife."

"Your sister is a princess, and you are the heir to the throne. The future of House Baratheon is on your shoulders. You and Shireen are the last trueborn Baratheons left. The northern girl has a great burden on her shoulders, you will have to share the burden with her."

"What burden mother?"

"The girl is to be your Queen and the mother to future Baratheons to come. As your mother, I will do my duty to guide her anyway possible, as a queen and a wife."

"I didn't know you cared so much, mother. Long ago, you never even thought of agreeing to have me married off to a northerner."

"Your father ordered the marriage be with a loyal Stark vassal, but Uncle Axell has warmed more to the plot, only because he wants your father's favour."

"I have said my goodbyes to Shireen and Uncle Axell after supper. I do not like having Horpe and Massey with us on the journey south. The Queen's Men will cause problems for father and will prevent him from getting any allies."

"I entrusted those men to protect you. All the King's Men will be travelling south with you and your father, and the remaining Queen's Men will stay with me and your sister. It's only fair a few of my loyal men accompanied you."

"I will compromise on the account they stay away from the northerners. Only father and I will enter the halls of the mountain clans. I will have to brush on my political cunning and persuade these men to join us against the Ironborn."

"Do as you can." The queen said, placing a hand on her son's face. His eyes light up with joy and a smile appeared on his face.

Queen Selyse may seem like a cold-hearted woman on the outside towards her men and those around her, but with Jacob she could be a mother and show another side of her. Her heart was weighing down on her, having to see her boy for the last time before he was gone from her.

She loved him with all her heart, and would be torn to pieces if she lost him to this dreadful war. She didn't want to be one of the countless mothers, whom had lost their sons in the war. Selyse would have pray to R'hllor every night in devotion for him to protect her son, whilst he is at war and to make sure he lived long enough to see her again.


	9. Davos III

**A/N: I haven't posted a chapter in almost two months; I spent a lot of time making the next two chapters as good as I possibly can.**

* * *

 **Chapter Nine – Davos III  
**

It had been eighteen days. Eighteen days of being held prisoner in large airy and well-furnished chambers, with a view of the city's streets and the harbor in New Castle. The Onion Knight maybe a guest on the outside, but he was a hostage with guards stationed outside the doors. He was a man of value, as the Hand to the rightful king of the Seven Kingdoms and had royal seals to prove it.

" _ **I may be seeing Lord Manderly soon, not as an envoy, but as a hostage. There is so much on the line with treating with one of the fattest lords in the Seven Kingdoms. The war effort in the North, seeking a bride for Prince Jacob and to gain an ally for Stannis. The Queen may be right on one thing, she may not like whichever granddaughter Manderly chooses for the prince, but she will do her duty to guide the poor girl through this war and the aftermath."**_

Ser Davos would have prayed to the Seven, for the sake of Lord Manderly's granddaughters, who are forced to marry men below their stations, and are from a house known for ugliness and cutthroats. He was given food throughout the eighteen days, which signified he was a guest of some sorts, but his hosts would never deprive him without sustenance to keep him alive.

The political situation was not all in black and white. Lord Wyman Manderly was weary of all the fighting and violence surrounding his house and the North, but the man was a coward, who allowed the Boltons and other traitor houses to have power over him and other Stark loyalists in the North.

The Onion Knight didn't like this business, but he knew this marriage was vital to the cause, and how it would be difficult to convince an already afraid lord to abandon his safety and the safety of his people to marry off one of his granddaughters to a man of high birth.

" _ **My king chooses me out of all the men in his retinue. He knew the prince and I have been bonded, since he was a babe at his mother's breast. Of all the loyal men, I know what's in the best interests of the heir to the throne. Not men like Axell Florent, who suck up to the prince to gain favour from the king and never knew what his favourite book was nor do they know him beneath his titles."**_

Ser Davos was willing to die, in attempt to cement this alliance before King Stannis pushes his son onto the Karstark girl, another bride in consideration. There was no shortage of northern brides available for the prince, but the king will have to choose carefully and choose soon, the prince maybe a man of eight and ten, but time was of the essence and his availability will be known to the rest of the Seven Kingdoms.

It was a possibility Lord Manderly may have knowledge of the prince being dead, like the rest of the kingdoms. Killed at the Battle of Blackwater, it had been true for a while but Prince Jacob returned with a greying hair colour and a new sworn shield from the south at his side.

The Onion Knight was no consultant in terms of marriage pacts, but he had a mission. To hopefully secure an alliance with the Manderlys for gold, provisions and men in exchange for a suitable husband for one of Lord Manderly's two granddaughters. In the end, Davos will choose the girl, based on whether Prince Jacob could grow to love her and the eventual marriage can last forever.

Davos had full confidence in his prince, even though others in the king's court many not. Prince Jacob was a changed man; he wasn't the boy, who would refrain from any socialisation with other men of his station, but he had grown up to become more engaged in politics and court intrigue.

* * *

The doors opened for a man to appear with few guards behind him. He was over six feet tall and was stout. The man's beard was greying, as were the colour of his eyes. His beard reminded him of Prince Jacob's short lived new hair colour when he returned. He wears armour of silver, with flowing seaweed engravements on it. The man's helm made him look fearsome, but over a head taller than Davos meant he wouldn't push his luck with this knight.

The Onion Knight was seized by the stout man and a hand full of household guards. He may have been treated like a guest, but he didn't know his situation being inside a keep, which housed Freys.

" _ **I'm growing used to being seized by guards of various lords, it comes with being the Hand of a king most people in the Seven Kingdoms despise. Fools, if what the robber lord said in Sweetsister was true, then none of them know the prince is alive, a man grown and unmarried."**_

He was familiar with the Commander of the White Harbor garrison, being the cousin of Lord Manderly and the man responsible for making sure he was comfortable, during his stay and having a sustainable meal through the eighteen days. Ser Davos was thankful towards the Seven, for getting him this far on his journey, even though it pained him to be away from the prince and princess again.

At the back of his mind, Davos was fortunate to have found another ally in the Reachman Grimm.

The new sworn shield of Prince Jacob and a man, who worshipped the Seven, as much as any one of the King's Men did, but he was not one of them, due to his obvious dislike for the king. Ser Sorrell was a different man than what Davos expected, which was a self-centred southerner only concerned with his own self ambitions, but this man could fight and took his oaths to heart, even though the man was previously a sailor at Oldtown.

" _ **The cousin of Lord Manderly was a pleasant man, but the man is doing his duty to his lord. Treating with the lord of the keep will take some cunning and some careful persuasion, but learning from Prince Jacob on how to speak to high lords and play the game of thrones, I am prepared to represent my king's cause and to persuade Lord Manderly to abandon his fruitless alliance with the Freys, a house responsible for the murder of one of his sons and many other northmen and rivermen slaughtered at that gods forsaken wedding."**_

The Onion Knight still had his royal seals with him. As proof of his status as Hand to the rightful king of the Seven Kingdoms, and he had an extended role of playing matchmaker for Prince Jacob, but he was ready to embrace such a role for a man, he considered another son of his. It wasn't an easy task, as it involved the potential of everything going wrong for him.

This treating could go south, for how the Freys could manipulate the situation in their favour and try and have him killed, only for speaking for his king.

Ser Davos couldn't fail, the prince personally asked him to find him a wife from House Manderly, in attempt to disrupt his father's plot of marrying him off to the dead Lord Karstark's daughter. The prince saw the Manderlys were worthier allies for his father in terms of funding the rest of the war and to help them all survive the winter.

The guards were not mishandling him, in the way the robber lord's guards did on Sweetsister. It seemed Northerners treated their guests or hostages with a sense of humanity and respect. He didn't expect the treatment to last forever, it depended on what Lord Manderly thought of him.

The Onion Knight took a deep breath, with him standing in front of wide, blue-green double doors engraved with the merman and the trident. It was a sigil to be proud of; it looked fearsome in its larger form. The guards behind could get in front and force the doors to open, and take him inside.

* * *

Ser Davos, still being held by two guards was brought before a crowded court, with many of the guests focusing their eyes up on him. The floors, walls, and ceiling were made of wooden planks placed together and engraved with all creatures of the sea. The other end of the hall was a dais, where there was a large cushioned throne, it was occupied by a very large man with a booming laugh and dressed in the blue and green colours of the hall. By his description and what was told to him days before, this was Lord Wyman Manderly and Ser Davos was a jester in this man's court.

Behind the dais a kraken and grey leviathan were locked in battle beneath the painted waves. The hall was grand, and many of the guests looked different. Ser Davos suspected those sitting on the table on the left were the Frey delegation, due to their weasel looks and glaring at the ladies of the court with them turning away and fearing to look repulsed by the Frey men. His head was held up high; he was the Hand of the King, to the rightful king of the Seven Kingdoms and he was here to negotiate alliances and a possible marriage pact between House Baratheon and House Manderly.

On the right side of the throne were women, whom were members of House Manderly. One of the women had long yellow hair with her face being rounded and pink. She was quite plump, dressed in a turquoise blue gown and looked her nose down upon Ser Davos. Two other younger women stood with the older woman, with one of them having a long brown hair bound in a braid, but the other young lady stood out amongst the guests of the court with her own hair being in a green colour.

The Onion Knight remembered what Prince Jacob told him of House Manderly. Of the women of the household consisted of the captive Wylis Manderly's lady wife Leona, formerly of House Woolfield, his daughters the ladies Wylla and Wynafryd. Ser Davos reminded himself of how Ser Wylis Manderly was a hostage of the Lannisters, and how they would like to see him returned home.

"You are should kneel before me; you are in my court in the presence of my family and good Frey friends Jared, Rhaegar and Symond." Lord Wyman said, catching the attention of all those in his hall.

"I requested a private audience with you, my lord." Ser Davos replied, remembering what Prince Jacob taught him about the game of thrones.

"You are in no such position to be requesting, such a thing smuggler. You will kneel before Lord Manderly; you are in his halls after all." One of the Freys in the delegation sneered.

"I refuse, due to my status as Hand to the true king of the Seven Kingdoms."

"Rightful king, the man you serve is nothing but blasphemy in the name of the Faith. He is the same man who sent his son to die in his thoughtless war leaving him depleted and destroyed." Lady Leona said harshly.

"He means nothing, good daughter. He is a smuggler in service to man, who couldn't even get a grandson out of his abnormal son, before his death. It's a shame, a young man had to die for his father's worthless ambition to sit on a throne that doesn't belong to him by rights."

"My lord, those of House Frey are responsible for the death of your son and others, who have been slaughtered at that damned wedding."

"The Red Wedding was the Young Wolf's work. He changed into a beast before our eyes and ripped out the throat of my cousin Jinglebell, a harmless simpleton. He would have slain my lord father, if Ser Wendel had not put himself in harm's way." The second of the Freys argued.

"Is it your claim that Robb Stark killed Wendel Manderly?" Ser Davos questioned.

"And many more. My own son Tytos was among the dead, and my daughter's husband. When Stark changed into a wolf, his northmen did the same. The mark of the beast was on them all. Wargs birth other wargs with a bite, it's well-known. It was all my brothers and I could do to put them down before they slaughtered us all."

"Ser, may I have your name?" The Onion Knight asked.

"Ser Jared, of House Frey." The second of the Freys, said with his voice radiating arrogance.

"Jared of House Frey, I name you a liar. Those of your house broke guest right, by killing those who ate bread and drunk wine in your own halls. Your house and the Boltons plotted to slay the Young Wolf, the northmen and the rivermen who were loyal to him."

"You are traitor, smuggler. To speak against the Iron Throne and King Tommen, you should learn to respect your betters." Lady Leona said sourly, "You come here, spreading lies and peddling treason under my good father's roof."

"Tommen is a usurper, and not a true son of Robert Baratheon, and therefore Robert's brother Stannis has a truer claim to the Iron Throne."

"What proof to do you have of such accusations, other than a jealous man's ambition to steal the throne from his own nephew, shameful." Lord Wyman resided.

"You have been told lies, my lord. Stannis's son and heir is not dead; he survived the Blackwater and bypassed Tyrell forces to return to his father. Those loyal to Stannis, especially those of House Florent are only fighting for him because of his son, who looks just like King Robert and has his warrior skill on the battlefield. His looks are akin to any trueborn Baratheon of black hair and blue eyes. If Stannis's son had died on the Blackwater, then the southerners in his army would have deserted him a long ago."

"You speak lies, smuggler. You and Stannis Baratheon are responsible for bringing an apostate sorceress onto our shores, who has been converting people to abandon the Faith in favour of a god, whose worshipers burn men alive. Isn't it true, Stannis's wife was one of the first converts? Lady Leona replied.

* * *

The Onion Knight couldn't blame Lady Leona. She was speaking against him out of fear. She was afraid for her husband, who was a captive of the Lannisters. Ser Davos knew the Lady Melisandre's presence made King Stannis unpopular, and caused potential allies to turn away from him, due to her and the Queen's Men trying to convert His Grace, the King and his son the Prince into worshipping R'hllor with them.

"The Lady Melisandre is a priestess of the red god. Queen Selyse and others have converted to her faith. The men who have adopted her faith call themselves the Queen's Men, but there are more of His Grace's followers who keep to the Faith of the Seven, myself included. Prince Jacob himself worships the faith and opposes the presence of the Red Woman, if he had been king, then she would have been put to death long ago." Ser Davos explained.

Lord Wyman glares at Ser Davos, he has a right of it. He was a stranger in this man's halls, but he allowed his good daughter and his Frey allies to mock him. He thanked the Seven many times, for Prince Jacob being alive or this delegation would have gone another way, and it would have ended with him with his head removed from his shoulders.

"Ser Onion Knight, what does Stannis Baratheon offer me in return for my allegiance to his already depleting cause?" Lord Wyman said, in a stern tone.

"The chance to do your duty." Ser Davos replied, "And for one of your granddaughters to be queen."

"What about your king's strength? How many allies does he have to his cause? Is his strength strong enough to take on the Boltons?" Ser Marlon questions.

The Onion Knight knew the answer in his own mind. King Stannis didn't have much, but it would have been much less if Prince Jacob had died on the Blackwater. The Florents may have stayed, with a daughter of their own house being Stannis's queen, but in their minds a son and heir was better for advancement of their house and to have Florent blood on the throne for generations to come.

"His silence only proves my point. Allying with Stannis will only bring us defeat and death." Ser Marlon declared.

"What does Stannis offer you? Vengeance, for my sons and yours, for your husbands, your fathers, and your brothers. Vengeance for your murdered lord, your murdered king, your butchered princes and the hand of one of your granddaughters for his son Prince Jacob."

"Yes. They killed Lord Eddard and Lady Catelyn and King Robb. He was our king! He was brave and good and the Freys murdered him. If Lord Stannis will avenge him, we should join Lord Stannis." The young lady with the greenish blonde braid announced.

"Be silent, Wylla. You must not speak ill of our Frey friends, one of them will be your lord husband soon." The young woman with the brown braid said harshly. She must be the elder sister to the girl, who bravely spoke out against the Freys.

"Grandfather may want you to marry a Frey, but I refuse to marry Little Walder. I would rather marry Prince Jacob than wed a boy from a house, who murdered our liege lord."

"Wylla, every time you open your mouth. You make me want to send you to the silent sisters. Speak out of turn again, and it will be your reality." Lord Wyman shouted.

"I know about the promise…..Maester Theomore, tell them! A thousand years ago before the Conquest, a promise was made, and oaths were sworn in the Wolf's Den before the old gods and the new. When we were sore, beset and friendless, hounded from our homes in peril of our lives, the wolves took us in and nourished us and protected us against our enemies. The city was built upon the land they gave us. In return, we swore that we should always be their men. Stark men."

"The Starks are all gone, my lady." The maester pointed out.

"That's because they killed them all!"

"Wylla has always been a wilful child, always speaking childish nonsense. I fear she will make a wilful wife." Lady Wynafryd said, in a stern tone.

"Marriage will soften her, I have no doubt. A firm hand, a quiet word and Little Walder should curb her wildness." Rhaegar Frey said, in a tone of disgust and malice.

The Onion Knight admired the Lady Wylla, she may have been young, but she was intelligent enough to see who the true enemies were. She was braver than most of the men in the room, who would cower before the Freys and their lord's cowardice. The young lady's wilfulness was a quality Prince Jacob wanted to find in future wife, a woman who was equal to him in shrewd intelligence. The girl's sister, the Lady Wynafryd was at age with Prince Jacob, but Ser Davos saw her trying to protect her sister from the threat of punishment from her lord grandfather and their Frey allies in attendance.

"Arya Stark is still alive, and on her way to wed Ramsay Bolton, and therefore you should give your allegiance to him, as he will soon be Lord of Winterfell." Rhaegar Frey insisted.

"Why should I give my allegiance to a monster, who terrorised the people of Hornwood, and made his last wife eat her own fingers?" Lady Wylla replied, with her arms folded.

"Be silent, Wylla or otherwise your lord grandfather will send you to the silent sisters. You should behave yourself like your sister." Lady Leona hissed.

"Robb Stark was the real monster, faithless and greedy. He betrayed us all. He abandoned the North to the cruel mercies of the Ironborn to carve out a fairer kingdom for himself on the Trident. Then he abandoned the Riverlords, who had risked much and more for him, breaking his marriage pact with my grandfather to wed the first western wench, who caught his eye. Young Wolf? He was a vile dog and died like one." The Third Frey man snarled, "King Tommen is the only hope for peace in Westeros, all Stannis will bring chaos and will force us all to worship the red bitch's demon god and will kill all he deems his enemies."

"I agree with Rhaegar, King Tommen will bring prosperity and peace to the Seven Kingdoms and your throne less king will seek to destroy us all." Lord Wyman replied.

"He is lying, they are all lying. King Tommen is only a boy, the Lannisters rule in his name. Lord Stannis and his son will stop the Boltons." Wylla protested, causing her lady mother to drag her out of the halls, for her disobedience and for stirring trouble for the Freys in the audience.

Ser Davos wished Prince Jacob had been with him, to prove to these highborns of him being alive. They might have believed Jacob's words, being highborn himself and the nephew of a dead king.

"I will never consider an alliance with Stannis Baratheon. If what my good daughter says is true, then I will not foolishly ally myself with a man, who has abandoned the faith and gotten his own son killed for his ambitions. Guards, seize this smuggler and get him out of my sight." Lord Wyman said, with his guards seizing Ser Davos.

"I am an envoy, my lord. Of the rightful king." The Onion Knight protested.

"Are you? You came into my city like a smuggler. I say you are no lord, no knight or envoy, only a thief and a spy, a peddler of lies and treasons. I should have your tongue ripped out with hot pincers and deliver you to the Dreadfort to be flayed, but the Mother is merciful, and, so am I?" Lord Wyman said, in a kindly tone.

At the back of his mind, the Onion Knight knew this was a lost cause. The Lord of White Harbor turned to Ser Marlon, the captain of his guard and commanded.

"Cousin, take this lowly creature to the Wolf's Den, and cut off his head and hands. I want them brought to me before I sup tonight. I will not eat another bite until I see this smuggler's head upon a spike with an onion shoved between his lying, treasonous teeth."


	10. Jacob III

**A/N: In this chapter. I wanted to expand on how Stannis brings the mountain clans to his cause in fighting the Ironborn and the Boltons. The tension between father and son will seep within the next few chapters.**

* * *

 **Chapter Ten – Jacob III**

The harsh snows near the mountain ranges of the north would have frozen any of the southerners easily, but for Prince Jacob. He held onto the reigns of his horse Misty, whilst the host of his father King Stannis were prowling through the snows of the mountainous regions. The prince knew at the back of his mind how he and his father have a difficult challenge ahead of them.

Jacob wore his gold and black furs, which kept him worm, whilst he rode beside his sworn shield Sorrell Grimm, who had snowflakes on his face and had a grim expression on his face. He couldn't blame the man; he was born and raised in the Reach and wasn't used to such conditions, but the prince was used to it being in the North as a guest of the Starks.

At the back of his mind, Jacob never thought much of the house that used to rule the North. He didn't want to think about it, due to his own guilty feelings of wanting Robb Stark dead for betraying him and for taking the crown of a false king. His own guilty conscience was eating at him, when he heard of what happened to the other Stark children, all pulled apart by war and stolen innocence.

Jacob never deemed to care for anyone other for those he viewed to be allies and nothing more. He was a cold and heartless man, but it was what the war made him. The prince didn't want to be close to his father, not wanting the man to berate him for befriending the bastard Lord Commander, but he didn't care for what his father thought most of the time.

The Prince of the Narrow Sea realised how he wanted to be a leader and less of being his father's favourite soldier, but he was his father's heir at the end. Jacob had led men into battle against the wildlings and at the Blackwater; he wanted another opportunity to lead a host into killing Ironborn.

"Your Grace, you have been quiet the whole journey." Sorrell asked, motioning his horse to be beside the prince he sworn himself to.

"I want to get to the keep and get this done with. Northern lords are difficult to reason with, only because southerners are easily fooled by false promises." Prince Jacob replied. "I have this thirst for blood rather than play the game again."

"You have changed, my prince. War has made a man of you, but not in a good way."

"What do you mean, ser?"

"I have seen you on the field, you looked to enjoy killing, Your Grace. I saw the thirst and hunger in your eyes to keep on killing even though the battle was over."

"I didn't know what happened to me. I wanted to secure the victory for father, after foolishly getting myself kidnapped after the Blackwater."

"You shouldn't be hard on yourself, Your Grace. You may be a man, but you are still young. You haven't experienced life the way most men have."

"What do you know of war, Grimm? You are only a sailor in Oldtown." Prince Jacob said bitterly.

"I was there, when Randyll Tarly defeated your uncle at Ashford, the only loyalist victor in the war. One of my cousins died for that victory, but one of my other cousins, the heir to Greyshield wanted the Reach forces at the Trident, but the Fat Flower wasted time with that failed siege which cost the royalists the war."

"My father told me about the siege when I was a young lad. He told me of how the Mace Tyrell and Paxter Redwyne were laying siege to the banquet table in the command tent, while he ate boot leather, rats, horses and dogs."

"Your father maybe the King Westeros needs in order for the realm to heal; he may not be the king people want, but the realm needs a stable king. A man and not a child to rule the Seven Kingdoms."

"You are a bold man, a southerner from a family of Tyrell loyalists to say such a thing. It seems serving me has redeemed you in the eyes of the gods. To give your service to the rightful king and not the pretenders to my father's throne."

"You are determined, my prince. Do what you can to give your father the throne. He must listen to your counsel and not those of the disloyal northerners, who allowed oathbreakers to rule the North."

"I didn't know you had such harsh opinions on them, it does come with your southron pride and all."

"Where did you hear such a thing, Your Grace?"

"Lady Olenna, ser. When I was young boy, she took me under her wing and taught me everything I knew about the game of thrones and how people were. She said southerners are prideful because they live in a warmer climate, have the better refined ladies and the south is closer to the throne."

"If any of those savage men come near you with an axe or anything that looks like a weapon, should I cut them down." Sorrell asked.

"No, we are guests and it will be insulting to point your sword at them. My father needs the clansmen to fight for him, and to help us oust the Ironborn from the northern strongholds." Prince Jacob replied.

"I only serve you, my prince. I do not hold any loyalty towards your father, being a prig and a man without any niceties at all. I will happily sacrifice my life for you, as it is you I vowed to serve and protect as your sworn shield."

Prince Jacob found it hard to understand the man, who had sworn himself to protect him. Sorrell Grimm was not a simple man; he may be highborn, but didn't live the life a traditional noble man lived in the south. He was a sailor and did things to earn his keep, even though he could have served his lord cousin as captain of his household guard, but he wanted to forge his own path in the world.

The young man didn't understand his sworn shield, because of the difference in lifestyle. Jacob may have not been the rightful heir of Storm's End, but he still lived a life of a privileged nobleman, being the nephew of a king and being born into one of the great houses of Westeros.

Prince Jacob gently stroked the mane of his horse; he had Misty since he was a child and would never leave her, even though she came back for him when he was on the ground at the battle beneath the Wall. Being with Sorrell gave Jacob some form of freedom to express opinions; his father would consider to be dishonourable and foolish in his own pragmatic and logical mind.

The prince and his sworn shield could see the sights of a keep in the distance. Prince Jacob didn't look at his father, not wanting his eyes to be on his stern, kingly father. He thought he put all his internal issues behind him, but they were still lingering inside him. All of those issues stemmed from his father's inability to change his blunt and harsh personality, as a way of getting allies for his cause for the Iron Throne. His father never listens to sense and reason, but chooses to listen to a red priestess, who is feeding him false hope with her magic and lips full of lies and broken promises.

Prince Jacob and Sorrell were closer together, as it was the latter man's duty as his shield to protect him from any form of harm. The prince didn't believe northerners were foolish enough to make an attempt on his life, but some of the northerners sided with the Boltons and Freys, which made this journey even more perilous. From Jon's knowledge, the clansmen of the North have been loyal to the Starks for centuries and are the sort of clans, who would like to spill the blood of Roose Bolton.

The keep had the flags waving in the distance. The prince could see three wooden buckets, brown on blue within a bordure of grey and white checks. Jacob learned of how the House Wull, was the most powerful of all the clans, and how most of the other chiefs would reconvene in Wull's keep and host a feast celebrating long and achieved peace between all the clans. Long ago, most of these clans were fighting each other, but now were allied with each other against their Ironborn and wilding enemies further in the North and the West of the North.

The prince rode with his sworn shield, just a few horses behind his own father. Jacob didn't want his father and his blunt nature ruining this potential meeting with the chief clansmen. He had the responsibly to make sure none of the mountain clan warriors had a good reason to kill them all.

There were a lot of men standing around the entrance of the keep, most of them adorned heavy furs and had helms, like the ones Ironborn warriors would wear. Some of the helms could be war tokens from their dead reeving enemies. The men would have either big two-handed greatswords behind them or would have axes. They were all in ragged skins in darker shades of brown and grey, and studded leathers to keep them warm under their armour. Prince Jacob was intimidated, by such men who looked to be tough and strong; the only place in the south for big strong warriors were the Stormlands; it was how his Uncle Robert was strong enough to fight three battles in a single day, even when traitors like the Conningtons disobeyed their liege in favour of a prince, who stole away another man's betrothed, and still kept fighting the war after the defeat by Randyll Tarly at Ashford.

The prince unmounted his horse, and was followed by Sorrell behind him with his sword. The rugged men glared at him, knowing he was no northerner, but a southern boy with a scar across his left cheek. The Grimm knight looked around, looking to detect a threat to kill in service of Prince Jacob, but the prince gave the knight a stern warning. He didn't want bloodshed, whether it was because of Sorrell's eagerness to kill for him or his own father's abysmal ways of respecting northern traditions.

Prince Jacob looked at his father, in the flamed crown upon his head. Underneath the weight of the crown, the prince knew his sire better than any man, even more than Ser Davos. His father was a man of honour, a just man who would follow the law and a man, a man willing to do his duty as the rightful king.

The young man pulled off his hood; the men with axes were not bothered by his scars, but most of them have seen war and know what war scars looked like. His long black hair had the grey streaks of the dye left in his hair by the kindly maester of House Mullendore. Jacob liked it; it made him more of a fearsome man than the boy, of five and ten willing to fight a war bigger than himself at the time.

Prince Jacob didn't know what to expect, with Sorrell standing by his side. The northern clansmen could agree to an alliance with him and his father against the Ironborn or it could all end in bloodshed.

* * *

The king and the prince were brought into the Lord's Solar; it had the flags of House Wull on the walls. Prince Jacob thought having a bucket as a house sigil was strange, but he would never say it out loud, being a guest in the keep of the Wulls and not wanting to insult them. There were two men, who commanded fear and respect amongst the men, being larger and having weapons on them.

One of the men had a large belly, but he was no fatter than Uncle Robert on his last days. The man had a great ginger beard that put his own father's one to shame. Jacob knew the man to be Hugo "Big Bucket" Wull, the clansmen with the most men in his army and was a hard-headed northman.

The other of the two was a stout and gruff man with gnarled, red-knuckled hands as big as Uncle Robert's Warhammer. This one made his father Stannis uncomfortable, being a staunch northman, who had fought against Ironborn and wildlings. This man was Lord Torghen Flint, but was called the Old Flint amongst his men and by the other clansmen of the north.

"It has been centuries, since we clansfolk have last seen a king in these parts." Lord Wull said, in a gruff tone.

"My lords, my father and I have come a long distance, journeying from the Wall to ask for aid in liberating northern strongholds in the hands of Ironborn and Bolton scum. My father and I are southerners and will be welcomed by the assistance of experienced fighters such as yourselves." Prince Jacob said.

"My relations have seen your face in the North before, you were a guest of the Ned and his clan before his friend the jolly stag king became his guest." Lord Torghen replied.

"My lords what my son is trying to say is how some of the northmen have betrayed their lieges, and by rights should be punished for it. The Lord Commander of the Watch said there are no truer men loyal to the Starks than those of the mountain clans." King Stannis said, in a hardened tone.

"The last time you were in the north, you were a boy, a stripling of five and ten. And now you come to us a man with war wounds on your face. It seems your own fellow southorns cannot recognise your face, if they did not know your name."

"The war scars you see on my face, chief clansmen are two years of war on me. I tend to fight alongside my father to free the North and make Bolton and his Frey friends bleed for their dishonour upon the northmen and the rivermen, who died in violation of guest right." Prince Jacob said, in a louder tone. He didn't want to seem soft and meek in front of men, larger than himself. His voice had to be bigger for the clansmen to take him seriously, as a man and an equal among them.

"The boy speaks true, Old Flint. If what he says is true, then we would be foolish to pass upon an opportunity to slaughter the Boltons and throw the reavers back into the sea. You have steel in you, boy, being a southerner and being used to our cold; you killed those savage wildlings with your own sword, and kicked one in the face." Lord Wull said.

"I am no boy. I am a man grown, and I have seen men die in front of me. I have seen things only storytellers tell scared children in the middle of the night. I know you have lost men to the Boltons and the Freys at that wedding, but I have lost much in the war. My uncles Robert and Renly are dead. I want to make sure they didn't die in vain or their memories were lost."

Prince Jacob could feel his father's piercing glare at him. He didn't want to look, all because of the fear of turning into the boy of five and ten, who wanted to do anything to please his father. The prince was a man grown, and he had to make his own decisions. He was to be king after his father and rule the Seven Kingdoms. The young man didn't want to be king in truth, ruling was hard and he already saw what it did to Uncle Robert. It made him a shadow of the man he once was; a leader of men in war and a great warrior in battle. Ruling turned a great warrior into a fat man, who wanted to drink and whore himself into an early grave.

He didn't want to suffer the same fate, of having his strings pulled by various people, who were not going to act on his or the kingdom's interests, but to fulfil their own selfish ambitions and to kill him when his use to the capitol vultures was over.

Prince Jacob was equally as unpopular as his father, all due to the same harsh and hardened traits inherited from father to son. He didn't know if his eventual wife will even tolerate him, let alone learn to love him because of his unappealing qualities. Marriage was a cage to him; he saw how unhappy his own parents were, they were only living shadows and didn't love each other much.

"My lords, my son didn't mean to be unclothed. He was raised better than to talk back at lords. My heir is usually well mannered, with southorn courtesies bred in him. The Lord Commander tells me how the clansmen are great fighters and are the best group of men able to assist in pushing the Ironborn out of Deepwood Motte." King Stannis intervened, his glare never left Jacob having done something wrong in his eyes.

"Your son is spirited, southorn king. You should be fortunate to have him in these rough times. He is unlike any southorn we have met. Your boy speaks true, the Iron reeving cunts have stayed in the North far too long and it's time for them to be thrown back to where they came from." Lord Torghen exclaimed, with his clansmen cheering for their lord.

Prince Jacob breathed a sigh of relief. The clansmen believed him, and even his father was astounded by his proclamation. The young man didn't expect them to listen him, being a southerner and a worshipper of a religion different than them. The prince didn't know these men well, but he was proud to be in the presence of experienced warriors, who have survived many battles and wars.

His father King Stannis's glare lessened; due to wanting to curry favour with Old Flint and Lord Wull.

"We shall be grateful for the aid in our campaign to free Deepwood Motte. The Ironborn stationed are weakened, their craven lord is dead and only a small force stands. Only loyal northmen, such as yourselves have considered our offer in removing them and some of the others have turned on their fellow northmen in need." Prince Jacob said, in a hardened tone of voice.

The cheering and loud shouting from the clansmen made Sorrell nervous, by his twitching fingers and unpleasant stare at most of the men with axes and greatswords. Prince Jacob understood the Reachman wanting to do his duty and protect him, but this wasn't the time or place for bloodshed.

The prince only thought of his eventual marriage once and ignored his other thoughts on them. It was difficult because Jacob didn't grow up with any examples of healthy and respectable marriages. His Uncle Robert and Cersei had a poisonous relationship and the unhappy relationship between his own parents Stannis and Selyse made his skin crawl, of somehow failing his wife before he met her.

Prince Jacob stood by Sorrell; he was the only man in the solar not be to stranger to him, unlike his own father was. King Stannis stood firm and uncompromising; he was not a man for celebration, but having the clansmen of the North on their side will help greatly in their campaign through the North.


	11. The Battle Of Deepwood Motte

**A/N: This is the longest chapter I have written for a fanfic; it's length made this an important chapter of Jacob's growth as a character. Some of the elements of the story will contain parts and storylines derived from the Telltalle game.  
**

* * *

 **Chapter Eleven – The Battle of Deepwood Motte**

The Heir to the Iron Throne was trekking across the snows of the Wolfswood, the largest and most dangerous of all forests in the North. Prince Jacob had hunted here, when he was previously a lord.

The forest was large, and the prince remembered hearing wolves howling in the night when he had been hunting with Ned Stark, Uncle Robert and a few other northmen. It was made up of many kinds trees, such as the oak, evergreen and black brier, as well as the sentinels. The prince could see the rare ironwood trees, which reminded him of the bloody battle against the traitorous Whitehills of Highpoint, whom were stationed in the lands of their rivals House Forrester, in serve of the Boltons.

Prince Jacob had an aching pain on his left arm, it had been from the fighting at Highpoint. They had been stationed here for five days after the short, but bloody battle. The first victory on their Northern Campaign was to march through the woods, make way through the passage on the Forrester lands and to launch a surprise attack on the remaining Whitehill soldiers stationed there.

The battle was won because Highpoint was lightly garrisoned, due to Lord Ludd Whitehill and his sons taking the best crop of their armies towards Winterfell, lending their support for the Boltons, however the Lady Gwyn was taken as a hostage, maybe his father Stannis will threaten her life to lure the Lord of Highpoint and his sons to stand and fight against him on the field.

Most of the Queen's Men, whom journeyed south with Jacob and Stannis called for the Whitehill girl to die for the sins of her father and brothers, but she was a valuable pawn to draw the cowardly lord of Highpoint and his sons away from their Bolton and Frey allies. If Lord Ludd's only daughter was in danger; he would either abandon the girl to her fate or come to save her. She was a hostage to his father and nothing more than a pawn to separate the Whitehills from the Boltons if the time came.

The battle had ended, and now King Stannis and Prince Jacob had control of the Wolfswood and the Forrester Ironwood. There was another battle ahead, and ridding Ironrath of Whitehills gave the rightful king and his heir the perfect route to pass their hosts through, towards Deepwood Motte.

The prince's heart ached, whilst walking around the war camp, which was full of mixed sigils, since the mountain clans of the north had joined his father in the fighting. He missed his mother and sister, but he understood why he needed to continue the war in his father's name. The victory at Highpoint drew new additions to his father's side, with the Forresters and Cerwyns joining them.

Prince Jacob turned back to see his sworn shield catch up to him. Sorrell looked like he could pass for a northerner with his fully grown dark beard and bald head. The prince wasn't in need of protection, he was a warrior in his own right and was trained by Randyll Tarly. His mother Queen Selyse feared for his safety when he left her again to march west through the mountainous regions of the north.

"Are you prepared for battle, Your Grace?" Sorrell asked, in a tone of bitterness and uncertainty.

"I am ready to throw the Ironborn back into the sea, the traitors of House Whitehill may have escaped my wrath, but the Ironborn will not have that fortune. The castle is fortified with strong walls, and they might dare to escape back to their lonesome ships." Prince Jacob replied.

"The storm will be upon us, my prince. I hope I get to slay as many Ironborn as I did the Whitehill men. The Queen's Men are growing restless, they want the Whitehill girl to burn for the sins of her father and brothers. I would agree, the girl is no use to our cause."

"She is a lord's daughter and can be married off to one of our northern allies, but having her marry a southerner would be what my father will suggest, to punish the girl and to get rid of her. Keeping her as a hostage will only be to lure her fat father out of hiding."

"Your father is meaning to speak with you. The northerners have a lot to grip about. Their liege lord butchered at a wedding and the north being ruled by a cutthroat and butcher, who lives by those titles to his name."

"I'm not afraid of the Leech Lord. Between him and his bastard, Roose Bolton looks to be more intelligent and reasonable. His bastard cannot control his urges and tendencies, just like Joffrey."

"I'm afraid for your life, my prince. This war will have you and your father in the grave. The steel in your heart will not stop you fighting, but if you have to fight to please your father, at least let me fight all your battles at your side."

"My father is Uncle Robert's true heir, but father doesn't have the respectability or inclination to win the nobility and the Faith to his side. I can. My father is only a battle commander and a solider, but I am a game player. I learned from Lady Olenna as a child, spying on the Tyrells and their bannermen, even when she said my own clever mind would get me killed one day. My faith in the Seven has kept the southerners loyal to my father, but it can help convince the High Septon to give my father clemency, and a chance of redemption in the eyes of the gods."

"It's a dangerous game, my prince. To potentially be a threat to your own father. It's a shame, your father does not see your true worth and what you have to offer him. You have been a political pawn, since the day you were born. The Florents only see you as advancement for their house, the Lannisters see you a threat to their stranglehold on the kingdoms and your father only sees you as his heir and nothing more."

"My father does love me, even though he is not the type of man to be showing affections. He values me, unlike these knights and lordings, who are only with him to gain lordships from him as rewards."

The prince's guilty psyche never left him alone. He was sick of it all; being blamed, threatened and shamed for only doing his duty to his father. The same father, who trusts him over all the other men loyal to him. The young man embraced the role of a soldier and killer, it was what Uncle Robert wanted him to become, as great as he was at his prime. Jacob never thought much about his favourite uncle, not wanting the empty sadness of him not being here in the world to resurface.

The war camp had other tents, with the sigils of the northern houses, whom have joined his father.

Prince Jacob had Sorrell on his side, the only man willing to keep his secrets. It made him realise the big hole Davos's absence had within him. The prince missed the Onion Knight, but he knew why he was gone. He asked Davos to find him a wife from House Manderly, to disrupt his father's plot in marrying him off to Alys Karstark. He did not want to voice the truth of not wanting to marry either of the northern girls on offer. It made him face his noring fear of being rejected by unattainable girls again.

The young man was close to winning Margaery Tyrell's hand, but his suit was rejected. Mathis Rowan's daughter was soiled from allowing a bard into her bed. He was never allowed to marry Desmera Redwyne, his first love because of his father, and he resented his sire since that day.

He was the rightful Prince of the Seven Kingdoms, not some silly boy mourning over a girl. Not just any girl, a highborn maid, who had been his first kiss, during their frequent moments in Highgarden.

" _ **I was only a young man, of four and ten, when I fell in love with Desmera. Uncle Robert said losing your first love cuts deeper than a sword wound. It was what I felt when I was not allowed to see her again, by the chagrin of her lord father and my own father."**_

A tear fell from the prince's eye. For his lost youth and innocence. He was only young, when he lost Desmera, she was not dead, but in his heart, it felt like she was gone from the world. Jacob wiped the tear, not wanting Sorrell or the northerners to see his crying like a newborn babe. He had a lot of sorrow within him for a reason. His uncles were dead, Maester Cressen was poisoned by the red demon woman and he was left without his mother and sister. Only to have his unforgiving father.

The prince and his sworn shield looked at the ironwood tree sigil of House Forrester flapping in the winds, the brown bucket sigil of House Wull and various of the mountain clans, and the black battle-axe of House Cerwyn. Jacob's eye was on his father's own terrible sigil; the bad omen from the demon god. He never liked the sigil, With Uncle Renly being dead, it would have been better to take their true black and gold stag sigil, to signify them being the last Baratheons in the Seven Kingdoms.

Prince Jacob gave Sorrell a look, a look for him to stand outside the tent with his sword ready. He wanted to speak with his lord father alone. The dread of him being talked down to, like a child was heavily present in the prince's mind. The meeting with the chief clansmen saw some unresolved problems between father and son. The prince wanted to make it known to the clansmen of the north, that he was no soft boy from the south, but a man with steel through his blood.

The young man entered the tent, only to see a few men leaving it. He took a deep breath; his eyes were on his father. His father's face looked fuller and was less gaunt than he was at Castle Black. The prince was thankful having a decent meal in the halls of the Wulls and at Eastwatch made him well.

"You wanted to speak with me, father." Prince Jacob said, in a hardened tone. His father was looking at maps of the Wolfswood and Deepwood Motte.

"Your behaviour at the keep of the Wulls. You almost cost us a long-term alliance with the mountain clans. Lords Wull and Flint, on the other hand praised me for raising such a headstrong boy. For the sake of this alliance, you are forgiven for your transgression." King Stannis replied.

"The chief clansmen agreed with me. I was only defending my honour, since these men want to refer to me as a boy. They would have thought of me as a soft southern boy with no will or strength, but I will not be talked down to by old men."

"I blame myself, Jacob. For not stopping your uncle from fostering you to the Tyrells. You were only a child, to be taken from home and living with another family. I lost many years with Robert because of his own fostering in the Vale; when he would come home, it was only brief before he had forgotten about Renly and myself, his own brothers to go back to the Vale to his new brother."

"Are you disappointed? Of not having captured Ludd and his ingrate sons?" Jacob asked.

"Luckily, we have the girl. His only daughter. After we have captured Winterfell, her fate will be decided. She can live and be married off to one of our northern allies or be put to the sword, along with her father and the rest of her witless family." Stannis retorted.

"I am leading a part of our host, to breach the outer walls of the castle. The Ironborn are arrogant to think these high walls keep them safe, but their hostages inside the keep could betray them for an opportunity to be free from their reeving and raping captors."

"This battle will test you, to see if you are capable of fighting the Ironborn as well you did the wildlings and the Whitehill men. You have proved to me, you are able to lead a host and to command the respect of a true leader."

"I'm glad you are well, father. I was concerned for your wellbeing, when I returned. The war has taken much from you as I has from me. Your health matters to me because, you need to be strong enough to stand beside me when we take North from the Boltons, the Riverlands from the Freys and the throne from the Lannisters and the Tyrells. As I said before, we are in this war together, and we will succeed together. Side by side. Father and son."

The prince stared at his father hard. Jacob could not believe he came from such a hard man like Stannis Baratheon, and that this man was his father. The young man was always reminded of the dangers of the battlefield, but he was a man and was ready for it. Prince Jacob peered closer at his father's map to show the detailed positions of all the points surrounding Deepwood Motte, and where the Ironborn will be at their most vulnerable when the battle commenced. The surrounding Wolfswood will have the northmen ready to kill any reaver caught trying to escape to their ships.

They were the last trueborn Baratheons, alongside Shireen. Jacob was the heir of a dying house, and knew how valuable he was to be securing the future of House Baratheon; for his sister to grow up in a better world without cruel nobles and ass-licking schemers around and for his uncle Robert to be avenged from the dishonour of being made a motley for the Lannisters and his inept councillors.

" _ **I never thought about Uncle Renly. He was my uncle, but he was a traitor. The man could have laid down his claim and supported his kin, but he chose his fate by claiming the crown for himself. I know the Tyrells better than Uncle Renly claimed to have. They only chose him because he was easy to manipulate and bend. If he sat on the Iron Throne, with his lover as Lord Commander, a Small Council filled with Reachmen and the Fat Flower as his Hand of the King."**_

The prince didn't want to worry himself with these thoughts. Of the uncle, he had a troubled relationship with. It was never easy, being around the uncle that stole his birthright and Uncle Robert allowed it to happen this way. The only time Uncle Renly spoke kindly towards Jacob was when Renly tried to tempt him into soiling his honour and betraying his father three years ago.

"Are you prepared for battle?" King Stannis questioned; he wasn't man for sentiment, but for Jacob it was an exception because he was his son.

"I'm ready to do what it takes to return the stronghold back to the Glovers. They would be thankful for us ridding Deepwood Motte and the Wolfswood of Ironborn reavers." Prince Jacob replied.

"You will meet Lord Arnolf soon, along with his sons to discuss the marriage arrangements. There is no better bride for you than Lord Rickard's daughter. I want you to put all thoughts on the Manderly issue behind you."

The prince groaned under his breath. He did not like being talked down to, as if he was a child. He knew at the back of his mind, this Arnolf Karstark was not to be trusted. Why would this man openly declare for his father? Knowing the last remaining son of Rickard Karstark was still a prisoner of the Lannisters and he could have been killed for that declaration. If the lawful heir of Karhold was dead, then Alys was the rightful heir being Lord Rickard's daughter, putting her above Arnolf and his ingrate sons in terms of the lawful succession. His father Stannis did not want to listen, knowing how Arnolf pledging himself to his cause mattered more to him than the dangerous plot surrounding him.

"Lord Wyman decided to bluff my fealty with flowery words of being scared and a coward. I may allow the man to pledge his loyalty to me, but I must meet the Karstark girl for myself, to see if she will be a good queen for you." King Stannis grumbled.

"At least, you are speaking some form of sense. You may not know Lord Arnolf, but I know men like him. I was surrounded by them, since I was a child and learned from them. He must want something in return for his fealty and marrying Alys off to me." Prince Jacob said.

"He wants something all men want. A chance to climb higher in the game of thrones, Jacob. You are a player of the game, you should know. The Lannisters' days are numbered. If Lord Arnolf becomes the uncle of a future legitimate queen, then the Karstarks will advance, like the Florents when I married your mother."

The talk of marriage was uncomfortable for Jacob. Especially with a father like Stannis, a man not for having these kinds of talks. The prince lowered his head, not wanting to hear any longer about the suspicious Karstark lord. All Jacob wanted to focus on was the battle for Deepwood Motte, the seat of House Glover, which was been stolen by the Ironborn. These were warriors, his father Stannis, Uncle Robert and Ned Stark fought on the Iron Islands, during the Greyjoy Rebellion. His father had told him stories of that war and how it established his reputation as a great battle commander by defeating Victarion Greyjoy, the Captain of the Iron Fleet and a reaver who was a challenge for him.

As a young child, Jacob looked up to his father as a hero, when he heard of his accomplishments, during the Greyjoy Rebellion. Defeating a Greyjoy, let alone the captain of the Ironborn's most prized fleet was an impressive feat. The prince hoped to succeed, and crush the reavers like his father and Uncle Robert did years ago.

This time will be Balon Greyjoy's daughter he might be fighting in the Wolfswood with a steel sword in his hands. The prince heard of how the salt smelling craven's daughter is the captain of her own ship, and has killed men on Ironborn reeving missions. He was gladdened in his heart; to finally have someone worth fighting and killing on the battlefield.

Prince Jacob stood beside his father Stannis to look through last minute details of the map, on the crafted table. He took a deep breath, not one to be nervous before a battle, not after fighting three battles during this war. This battle was going to make him, to spread the terror of the lord of the storm and fury tearing through the Ironborn with his sword and standing on their blooded corpses.

* * *

"Are you sure, this is the way, my prince?" Sorrell asked, being uncertain with the surroundings being unfamiliar to him.

The prince and his shield were stationed in the Wolfswood, in the dark and a host of one thousand and two hundred men behind them. Prince Jacob was not afraid of the dark forest, for he was a stag and the forest is the home of the sigil to his house. He wanted to take his part of the force here, whilst his father was leading the recruited northmen at the gates of Deepwood Motte, but at the back of his mind, he knew the Ironborn would not surrender peacefully, for they were proud people.

Prince Jacob was sharpening his sword on a whetstone; his darkened sapphire blue eyes were looking upon the sword. A weapon that has killed wildlings, Lannister men at arms and Whitehill soldiers. It was a fine weapon, from the cutthroats of House Tyrell and it still looked as good as new.

The young man was shivering under his furs, but they were not as heavy for he had to be able to fight on the field. He was in his antlered armour, the one forged for him by Uncle Robert. It was in the colour or furnished gold, and it's crafted antlers on the stag made it look fearsome on his chest.

His antlered helm was upon his head, with locks of his black hair resting on his shoulders. Jacob did not think himself a fine man, only focused on his ugly flaws. It was the source of his envy for Uncle Renly, the pretty boy knights of the south and Robb Stark. To everyone else, he was a spiteful and vindictive boy.

"It is the way, Sorrell. With father wasting his time at the gates; I led my part of the host here. The Ironborn are prideful and will never surrender so easily. The castle will be overwhelmed with my father and the northmen, but the Ironborn cunts will try and escape to their ships. If I find them, then they will be put the torch and crew members to be slain." Prince Jacob suggested, with a smirk appearing between his dry lips.

"You smile, my prince. You look forward to fighting the craven pirate's daughter." The knight said.

"I have spent much of this war fighting greenish Lannister boys, savage wildlings and incompetent Whitehills. I am a warrior trained by Randyll Tarly. I am the nephew of the man, who killed Rhaegar Targaryen and the son of the man, who defeated the Captain of the Iron Fleet. I finally have an enemy worth fighting and worth killing on the field."

"I warned you on the way to Wulls keep. And I will warn you again, your overconfidence and brashness will have you in the grave earlier than you would have liked."

The prince did not care for what Sorrell said. He was only his sworn shield, a man from the Shield Islands and not Ser Davos. No matter how hard he tries to be what Davos has been for him. It made him miss the Onion Knight even more and wished his father had not sent him away so far form him.

Prince Jacob saw the shining glint from his sword Limos; he had been given the sword for his fifteenth nameday and kept it as his primary weapon. The prince also carried his bow and arrow; holding the weapon in his hand made his mind think of the traitor great uncle who gave it to him.

" _ **Lord Alester was a traitor. He had sold father out for a chance to regain his lands again. This man was my great uncle, but he would have sold Shireen and I for power and Brightwater Keep. Being burned alive was the punishment for such a man; a man who betrayed his king and his house."**_

The young man was warmed by the lit fire. Prince Jacob did not like the fire much; it had its purpose for keeping the hearth and the home warm. He saw the flames, as a symbol of everything that has gone wrong with his life and how the people in his life are falling under the spell of a demon witch.

Prince Jacob's eyes were caught on the horizon; it may have been the night, but a blaze of orange and red flame peered in the distance. A fire was lit in the distance, and Jacob saw something burning from a far. He did not know what it was, but something was put to the torch to stop the Ironborn.

The prince's guilt, of almost allowing the Red Woman to seduce him gave him bad dreams. She had found his most vulnerable spot he was lucky to not have let her do anymore with him. underneath the grim face and the sharp blade was a man, whose heart is in great ruin. He cannot be attached to the sworn shield defending him, he cannot trust his northern allies and he cannot trust himself.

"Your Grace, we must move. Our scouts have reported some Ironborn men sneaking into the woods, and attempting to run to their ships." Sorrell foretold.

"Do you know what was on fire?" Prince Jacob asked.

"I have no idea, my prince. It does not matter now, the remaining Ironborn forces are going to come here and we must kill them all."

The prince understood why Sorrell wanted blood; he heard things, among his southerners of the Mad Crow Eye returning to the Iron Islands and is now in possession of the Iron Fleet, and is terrorising the Reach. The Shield Islands were the first victims of this madman on his ravaging campaign through the most fertile lands of the Seven Kingdoms. His faithful knight never spoke about home, but his relatives were being terrorised by this faithless reaver. The prince needed Sorrell Grimm with him on the field, to protect him if anything went wrong and he was in trouble.

"Men of the King, we shall cross further into the Wolfswood. The Ironborn lack honour and the numbers able to defeat us. We shall be feasting on their corpses tonight, after I give you this victory, like the victory at Ironrath and beneath the Wall. As your future king, I will fight beside my men and push the Ironborn out of the North." The prince exclaimed, raising his shining sword above him.

The men cheered for their prince, and Prince Jacob's face was glowing with a smile. For the first time, he senses himself to be the stronger man he always wanted to be. The prince stood tall and proud on a rock, with his sword in front of him. Jacob knew the great battle was ahead, and he was to lead the men to the victory he promised them.

The prince, his knight and his host began trekking through the Wolfswood. The darkened trees sent shivers down Jacob's spine. It was a foreign realm to him, being a worshipper of the Faith; he gestured for his men to trek in silence and they began walking past the trees and the howls and growls in the distance began to spook the men, but most of the men in Jacob's host were southorns.

The pounding of feet in the snows was what the prince heard. He motioned Sorrell and his men to come forth, even though the southorns are in unfamiliar territory. Prince Jacob missed his horse Misty; she was a good horse and was always there for him. He made the choice to leave her, he did not want his horse to be caught up in the violence. Jacob heard of stories of how Ironborn never lacked the taste for horse flesh and did not want his faithful companion becoming a reaver's meal.

Sorrell held a flamed torch, wanting to provide a guide for his prince. Prince Jacob never thought much of his sworn shield. The man did his duty and did it well. There was no need for him to become more than his ally and protector on the field. His father Stannis told him attachments were weakness, and he believed it to be true. No one wanted to be a true friend, because it would call for his guard to be let down and he let his walls down for Desmera Redwyne and it got him nowhere.

"My prince, shall I hand the torch to another man. I am to protect you from the Ironborn." Sorrell exclaimed.

"You shall, my faithful knight." Prince Jacob replied, and Sorrell passed the torch onto another man.

* * *

The prince saw footprints on the ground. It must be Iron Islander tracks. Most of them were foolish enough to leave their tracks open. Prince Jacob learned from the Lord of Horn Hill about how to track down prey for a hunt. His fostering in the Reach gave him more sufficient skills, than if he had been fostered at court with his uncle. Jacob became a man by learning swordplay, hunting and listening through the walls of Highgarden, whenever Mace Tyrell had his bannermen around him.

His eyes caught on passing silhouette in the dark, and knew it was one of the escaping Ironborn. He whistled, alerting Sorrell and his men to come forward, with them being closer to their enemies by a mile away. The prince took a deep breath, he could feel the blood rushing through his body. The same feeling fighting beneath the Wall brought him. His battle skill was improving, but his mind was the greater strength; of knowing people and finding their weaknesses and flaws to use against them.

A man wearing armour of the kraken engraved on it foolishly ran towards Jacob, but the prince unsheathed his sword to cut the man at the side of his head. The prince gestured his men to attack, with a horde of Ironborn coming towards his men with battle-axes in their hands. The two hordes of men clashed against each other with the prince and Sorrell following the men onto the two forces.

The trotting of some on horseback and the clanging of metal was an all familiar sound to Prince Jacob. It was the sound of battle and war, something he could process as he has been in three battles and has secured a victory in the recent fight at Ironrath and Highpoint. The prince ran into the pit of where his men and the Ironmen were fighting, and had his steel sword **_Limos_ ** in his hand.

Prince Jacob clashed his sword against an axe wielding Ironman, whom was taller than he was. His blade blocked the attack by the man's axe, and stood sideways for the ironman's weapon to miss.

The Stag of Dragonstone's helm was still on his head, with his eye focused on the enemy. The prince saw an opening at the tall man's armour, with it not being properly fitted and it not being made of the finest material for protection. The Ironborn were a proud lot and didn't care for who they call greenlanders, an _affectionate_ name given to people like Jacob and others in the Seven Kingdoms.

Prince Jacob's blade pierced the man's breast with a swift blockade of his axe attack. The scent of blood was present on the field, with the Ironmen dying around him and the reavers being outnumbered by the men of Jacob and his father Stannis with the northmen at Deepwood Motte.

The prince could see some of the northmen in the fray of the battle. Some were the men of House Forrester and House Liddle, with the prince recognising their sigils on the breastplates of the men battling the Ironborn reavers.

"Sorrell." The prince yelled, in the mist of the men in his host sounding the battle cry, joining forces with the northmen. The rush of adrenaline went through him and the trickling of blood touching his tongue from the heat of the battle.

The young man's armour was the same he wore, when he defeated the wildlings. Jacob caught his eye on another brutish Ironman running towards him, but the prince swiftly swung his sword, only for the man's axe to be bigger than his head in size. The brute force of the weapon was thundered against the prince, knocking him down onto the ground with his antlered helm falling from his head.

Prince Jacob's eyes looked up at the brute warrior, who knocked him down. The man stood above him with a gleeful smile on his face. His teeth looked to have rotted from being an Ironborn pirate.

"Any last words, stag whelp." The brutish man huffed, in a laugh. Holding his axe above the prince.

This was not how Jacob wanted to die on the battlefield, at the hands of some Ironborn, who was not Balon Greyjoy's daughter or someone worthy enough to kill him. The force of the big axe against his armour radiated an aching pain through his body. His eyes widened, wanting to look in the face of the man about to send him into the next life. The prince began to close his eyes, not wanting to see the blood and grief on the faces of his men, especially his close ally Sorrell Grimm when he died.

Jacob saw the sharp end of a sword piercing the mid-section of the brute, who wanting to kill him. his eyes were widened and he dropped his axe. The brutish man himself eventually fell dead onto the ground. The prince wrapped his arm around his chest and crawled away backwards having the use of his feet to help him move away from whomever killed this man.

The man falling revealed a familiar face. The man was dark of eyes and orange-reddish of hair with slender of build with his sword in his hand. His coat of arms and his armour bared the green sea turtle of House Estermont, the house of his late grandmother Lady Cassana. The man was good looking, but not on the level of handsomeness as his late Uncle Renly and Robb Stark. He gave the prince his hand and Jacob accepted his hand, and pulled himself on his feet to see the man in face.

"Cousin Luthor, I thought you were at Deepwood Motte with my father." Jacob exclaimed, not expecting to see his cousin from the Stormlands here in the Wolfswood.

"You needed assistance, Jake. You could have died; the man's axe is bigger than a cart." Said Luthor.

"We must go."

"I saw the Greyjoy girl, not far from here. If you are thinking of fighting her, you are a bigger fool than I thought. If you do, I will come with you, as your kin."

Jacob and Luthor ran across the field of the Wolfswood, with Ironmen and northmen raging around them, with swords and axes fighting another. The two men had their swords, and cut down every Ironman in their path. The prince had not seen his cousin, since Luthor was knighted by his uncle.

His cousin Luthor was one of the King's Men of his father's army, a man devoted to his Faith in the Seven. The prince seeing him was bittersweet; because the man's brother Ser Andrew had sailed away across the Narrow Sea, being the guardian and shield of Uncle Robert's bastard Edric Storm.

The men were in the thick of the battle, with Ironmen falling and northmen crying in cheers of victory for every kraken solider that fell. Prince Jacob and Luthor were cutting down the men, who dared to attack them from behind. The prince's sword Limos, shone brightly in the darkness of the northern Wolfswood. His sword clashed against an Ironman with a broadsword. Jacob's sword maneuvered the man's sword, in order for the prince to strike a deadly blow against the man.

His eyes were feasted upon the crows flying around the fighting. Black creatures, whom would feast on the dead. Prince Jacob's eyes were fixed on the dead Ironmen littering around, with the northman fighting ferociously with their swords and axes, most of them were mountain clansmen.

At the corner of his eye, the prince of the Iron Throne saw a woman on the field, clad in chainmail. She was lean and long-legged, whilst she had her shield and an axe in her hand. Her hair was black and cut short, for she could have been mistaken for a man. She adorned the golden kraken sigil on her, signifying her to be Ironborn and an important one, with some Ironmen flanking towards her.

Prince Jacob held onto his sword, not keeping his eye of the woman, not for a second. He charged straight towards her, with Luthor following behind him. The young man had no time look for Sorrell, not when he is close to slaying a worthy opponent. He still had his eye on the woman, and he was not going to lose focus. The prince wanted to finish what Uncle Robert could not do, do what his father Stannis wanted to do at the end of the Greyjoy Rebellion; it was to eliminate the Greyjoy line.

The prince's sword battered against the Greyjoy woman's axe, with her blocking his attack. Jacob was not fooled into lose focus, when fighting her. Not when her family were full of cutthroats and killers. The taste of blood tricking from his nose and touching his tongue gave him a surge of adrenaline through his body. He liked the taste of his own blood, and his sword cutting men down.

Prince Jacob held onto _**Limos**_ , whilst face to face with the Greyjoy woman; he never cared to know her name, why would he if he was to kill her? He maneuvered himself to the left side, with the woman striking her axe against him. The prince's eyes were still and eagle-eyed focused on her.

The young man did not have his antlered helm, with it falling on the field. The tresses of his black hair were lifted by the cold winds of the Wolfswood. The scent of blood and death was in the air, with various men dying around them. Jacob raised his sword to deliver an attack against the axe.

The Greyjoy woman held her shield, whilst the prince's sword slashes against the woman's cheek, which sparked the anger in her darker eyes. Jacob saw the blood trickling down her face; a glint of a smile was appearing on his lips, his blooded red lips. Her axe swung over him, with him ducking and kicking off the woman's shield and clanging his sword against her axe. The prince's armour was light for him to manoeuvre his sword around and be able to miss the woman's axe by the inch of his face.

Prince Jacob heard a battle cry sounded by the northmen from the mountains. It echoed through the woods in the mist of the stench of rotting corpses in the air. Had Jacob been a boy of four and ten, in his first battle, then would he have been sick? From the stench and the clanging of metal in his ears.

His knee was bent into the ground, breathing through the cold air of the north. Jacob glared into the eyes of his opponent, with blood rushing through every entry of his body. Her axe was raised to strike against him, but the attack was blocked by the shielding on his sword against it. The prince clenched his teeth, gritting the aches and pains of his body in this armour and fighting this battle.

"Ready to die, greenlander." The woman said, in a haughty smirk. It was obvious Jacob did not intend to die in the north, surrounded by strange creatures to feast on his dead flesh at winter.

The prince swivelled his sword, and his stance to knock off the shield from the Greyjoy woman's left hand, and now he had the advantage over his opponent. His sword battering against the woman's axe with blow and after blow. His hand clenched onto his sword tightly in his grasp. The prince was gaining on the woman with clang after clang with his sword against her axe. He picked up a lone shield from the ground, and held it against himself. Jacob's eyes saw the Ironborn axe come for him.

The young warrior battered the shield against the axe, causing it to fall from the woman's hand. He had his sword up close to him. Jacob saw the woman on the ground, hoping to have a good death, but her leg to be twisted from her fall.

"Ready to meet your sea god, reaver." Jacob grunted, raising his sword for the blow to finish her off. And then he heard the call of a trumpet. It was not any old trumpet, but it was the horn of his father King Stannis signalling the battle of Deepwood Motte and the Wolfswood to be over.


	12. Stannis III

**A/N: The new chapter twelve is here. I wanted to place this one here because it made sense in terms of structure for the story. This chapter was a struggle to write, but I got there in the end. I wanted add a father and son moment in the middle of all this chaos and war.  
**

* * *

 **Chapter Twelve – Stannis III**

King Stannis had awoken from his slumber this morning. Days after spending almost a moon or two trekking through the harsh snowstorms from Deepwood Motte to this small encampment, which is where his southorn soldiers and his northern allies were stationed. The watchtower he slept in was warmed by the morning fire started by his new squire, after Bryen Farring died from scumming to the cold. It had not been the same, since Devan was left behind at Castle Black, even though the boy had been his son's squire. There were other boys in the barracks, willing to replace him in serving the rightful prince and the king whenever they were of use to them.

The northmen and the southorns had to make their own tents for the duration of their time here, as there was not enough room in the watchtower for all of them. It was a practical solution to a niggling problem Stannis had solved in a fortnight. He was a rational man, never one to second guess anything. He was absolute in all the decisions he made and stuck true to his words, even though there are those in his army that disagreed with his choices as of late.

" _ **The Battle at Deepwood Motte is nothing to boast about. There were minimal Ironborn soldiers garrisoning the castle, as the rest of them and their ships were commanded by the returned exiled brother of Balon Greyjoy. The Ironborn woman is my hostage, and she will be of use to whatever I see fit for her."**_

Retaking Deepwood Motte was almost bloodless, with only a few losses in comparison to the Ironborn, who were killed by the men led by his son Prince Jacob in the Wolfswood. Many of this southorns thought his son was Robert's shade back from the dead to smash the thieving iron bitch and all her remaining men, and it was true. No matter who exaggerated the rumours were. It bothered the king deeply, to know his son was gaining glory for himself and did not care for the consequences of his actions. It was the fury Jacob inherited from his side of the family, and he unleashed that fury upon the Ironborn men and the coward Ludd Whitehill's men at Highpoint.

Stannis had no use for glory himself; he was a middle-aged king with more important things to focus his attention on, but for the younger men in his ranks, it was all they thought of. It was truly foolish when they would cheer for their own triumphs, even though he had victories at Highpoint, Deepwood Motte and the Wall; they were minimal in comparison to the great victory he was seeking when Winterfell was retaken and the Boltons and Freys were only rotting corpses in the snows.

The king noticed his son was gone. Being alone in the watchtower gave Stannis time to prepare for the war meeting later. Stannis was used to Jacob being gone for long periods of time, because he had responsibilities to handle, in terms of keeping the men of R'hllor and the Seven from fighting each other and making sure Asha Greyjoy stays in her place. The capture of the woman was not hard, as Jacob fought her in her middle of the Wolfswood and his sword slashed her cheek in the middle of the duel, causing her to slip and almost be killed before the horn was sounded, ending the battle.

Stannis was not blind to the attention the Greyjoy woman was giving to his son, as told to him by the Greyshield knight. It confirmed his reasonable doubts about whether he made the right choice in marrying Jacob off to the Karstarks for an alliance. He knew his soldiers had camp followers and whores in their tents, for the men to relieve themselves of the stresses of war and being a solider.

On the other hand, an Ironborn woman, a Greyjoy giving his son the same look whores give to his soldiers before they end up bedding them. It was a sign of trouble and it needed to be stamped out right now. The king had no time to be dealing with his prisoner, when he had to prepare for war on Winterfell, which was guarded by the forces of Roose Bolton and his northern traitors. Stannis kept his thoughts of the Karstarks at the forefront, as Lord Arnolf and his sons were coming to discuss the marriage arrangement in more detail and what would the benefits of their alliance bring to his cause.

As a man of considerable pride, Stannis would not admit to Jacob's face of him being right about the Manderlys being better allies in the long term, because of their considerable coin and capability in helping him survive the winter and the dowry offered by Lord Wyman would be better than the one offered by the Karstarks.

" _ **I am surrounded by fools and fanatics. The only ones with brains are the Greyshield knight and the son of Lomas Estermont. The northmen tire of arguing with the Queen's Men every day and are close to declaring war on them. It's good Jacob is there to stop the disputes between both sides and become a mediator between them. My son is the reason why the King's Men and the Queen's Men have not fought each other, during the war. Of fear of disappointing their rightful prince and future king. It was that fear that kept them in line."**_

The king's deep-seated envy towards his son was not at the centre of his attention, until after the battle of Deepwood Motte. Stannis knew it was wrong for him to be jealous of his own son, but it was the same jealousy he held towards Robert as a child. It was not Jacob's fault; he was an exceptional warrior and leader. It was his duty to be a leader as the future king of the Seven Kingdoms and this was great preparation for Jacob to learn how to be a commander and leader.

Stannis knew his son was more content than before, due to the Lady Melisandre being commanded to stay at the Wall and having to part with his squire Devan Seaworth. Jacob knew not to get attached to people because of the circumstances of the war and how betrayals can happen so quickly when loyalty is thrown to the side for a grasp of power.

It was power and disloyalty that sealed the fate of Alester Florent for his treason against Stannis and his family. He never regretted the man's death because it was what he deserved for what he had done; writing letters to Tywin Lannister in selling both his children Jacob and Shireen to the Lannisters as hostages and nearly ruining his cause. The man was disowned by his brother, his niece, great-nephew and condemned by the very king, whose banners he went over to after Renly's death.

Stannis had not seen the Karstark girl for himself, but he expects Lord Arnolf and his sons to bring the girl over after they have recaptured Winterfell from the Boltons. It was better if he had seen her for himself, so he could inspect whether the girl was good enough for his son or not. The thoughts of Ser Davos plagued the king day and night. Of why the onion knight was still absent from his side? Did he succeed in following his son's plot to supplant his already planned arrangement with the Karstarks to do what Jacob asked of him? Ser Davos has known Jacob, since he was a babe and would never refuse any order his son gave to the knight.

At least, with the northerners in the war council, things could get interesting with the conflicting opinions and thoughts on what they will do about this stormy weather. Stannis does not have the patience to deal with the Queen's Men stirring trouble between themselves and the northerners, who worship their Old Gods as deeply as Jacob does with the Seven. The new squire was not as slow as the Farring boy, who perished out in the storm. The boy was not even a knight, and most of his men would not give a damn about him, even though many others died in the snowstorm as well.

The king could see the tents outside of the watchtower window. Most of the tents were covered in a sheet of white snow that men had to dig their way out from being trapped inside. He intrusted the Mormont warrior woman to keep an eye on his prize and keep her leering eyes away from him son. Stannis would not think of it, his son wedded to Ironborn scum like her and the rest of her kind; it could be the reality if he is not vigilant in not paying more attention to Jacob's day to day activities.

It has been too long. Jacob has been unmarried, since the war began, and time was running out. If his lady wife Selyse had her way, then their son would settle down to a southern bride of her choosing and not marry northerners at all. The king expected it at the beginning with his wife and good family, the Florents being southerners and valuing their own over all others. He understood they all wanted Jacob to settle down to someone, who would do what is expected of a highborn bride and birth the next generation of Baratheon progeny. The last thing Stannis would want to see before his eventual death is to meet his grandchildren before the stranger takes him.

The rightful king was capable in doing things for himself, but the gauntness in his features suggested he was feeble and haggard. They were the symptoms of being out in the elements too long and was what caused Stannis to be more tired more often. He never told anyone apart from Jacob. Staying in the watchtower was good for the king's recovery from trekking through the storm and leading a pack of fools, who do not know where left and right were most of the time.

Having the northerners on his side improved things. The northmen were accustomed to the cold and were able to march through the storms better than the king's southorns. Stannis looked out of the window of the watchtower, to glimpse the winds blowing in the direction of the minimal campfires being lit in the night. He suspected the Queen's Men were starting the fires and using the flames to pray to the Lord of Light for whatever favours he could bestow on his most faithful in these times.

* * *

The king made his way to the bigger of the tents put up in the middle of the encampment. It was one belonging to the Umber forces brought by Mors Crowfood. It was larger than the other tents and the banner of the great giant in chains was flapping in the cold winds. Stannis was grateful for the new additions to his slow, expanding army. To the right of the king, the banners of other northern houses were flapping in the winds as well. The bear of House Mormont, the fist of House Glover, the black bullmoose of House Hornwood, the green sentinel trees of House Tallhart and the white tree of House Forrester were among the smaller northern banners, whom have joined the king in rebellion against House Bolton.

The gathering of the northmen and the king's southorn men were amassed inside the tent, as the king entered with his Penny squire standing behind him, with a frightened look on his face and it made the king grit his teeth in silence. Stannis was not wasteful of the potential skilled workers within his army and only hired the most competent boy to replace the squire that died days ago. The prince was present amongst the men and stood at the right side of the head of the table; he had the Greyshield knight and Lomas Estermont's son next to Prince Jacob. Stannis never cared to ask what the red-haired boy's name was for it was not important, even though the boy was one of his many cousins from his lady mother's maiden house.

The men began to sit in their place, even though there were not enough wooden chairs for all. At the head of the table opposite the king sat Mors "Crowfood" Umber, with most of his men by his side. The man was old with a ruddy face and a shaggy white beard. His lost eye looked to be hidden with a stained white leather eye patch. He was a strong and powerful man, as he was adorned a cloak made from the skin of a snow bear, with its head worn as a hood. This was the man, who agreed to join Stannis, if his brother, the Whoresbane was pardoned for fighting under duress for the Boltons.

The king knew the Umbers were staunch northmen, with a strong hatred for wildlings and prissily southorns, who cannot keep up with them. Stannis had to tread carefully, as the Queen's Men could ruin everything with a stroke of a sword. The king sat with his son to right and the Ser Richard Horpe to his left side. The man on his left was obedient to the king and followed his orders without a question, but he was a queen's man, which made him an adversary to the King's Men.

"Your Grace, if it be prudent for most of us to go back to Deepwood Motte or some other keep for warm shelter, until this terrible storm passes." The lording Robin Peasebury was the first to speak, and his eyes were shifting, and fingers were shaking.

"And what come all this way for nothing? You southorns have no sense of honour or bravery." Artos Flint replied.

"It was your savage tree gods that brought this storm upon us. How long can we sit here until Bolton's soldiers come out and slaughter us." Corliss Penny said, in defiance of the northman.

"My lords, please. We must remain level headed. We are fortunate to have the forces of Hornwood, Umber and Mormont on our side. This settlement is only temporary until Lord Arnolf and his forces arrive to our side." Prince Jacob interjected.

"How are we going capture Winterfell, when we are stuck with the Greyjoy slacker, who contributes nothing?"

"The Iron bitch should burn, we should give her to the Lord of Light. Get the wench of our backs so we can focus on the Boltons and them damned Freys." Ser Godry Farring demanded, slamming his fist on the table.

"Why not use her as bait for the Boltons?"

"And lose the prize of our victory in the Wolfswood and devalue the prince's bravery in fighting the ironborn scum." Hugo Wull said, in a gruff tone.

"What of you, Mors Crowfood. You say would join us and our rightful sovereign in fighting the Boltons, but your brother fights for them and that makes you a traitor." The Giantslayer said.

"Aye, it is true what you say, giant man. My brother only fights for the Boltons because the damned Freys have the Greatjon and much of the Umber strength in dungeons. I would advise you to think before you say anything else." Mors Crowfood said, in an iron tone. Similar to the tone Stannis would use when talking to his own men.

"It seems Ser Godry, you allowed the slayed giant to cloud your mind, to where you think you have the audacity to disrespect our northern allies, especially ones who have risked much to join us." The king's son argued back at the Giantslayer.

"I am only looking out for the best interests of your father, Your Grace. We do not need skimping traitors in our ranks, we already have that sworn shield of yours, a Reachman in our ranks."

The king listened to the sentiments of the Queen's Men loud and clear. His fingers were crossed over each other, as he watched his son's eyes glaring at Ser Godry for his comment. It was typical of the Queen's Men to do when it came to having close-minded views on everything. The men, who worshipped the red god were more under control, when under the leadership of Ser Axell, but the man was at the Wall with his lady wife Selyse and daughter Shireen. It would have been better to send the Reachman there as well to keep watch over his daughter. The man being here did not ease Stannis's doubts about him. The knight became more of an emotional pillar for his son, when the king had not been the supportive father he should have been for Jacob. It had been Stannis's own pride that lead him to becoming slightly envious towards his son and his shield.

"Ser Sorrell is a valuable knight and has done more for the king's cause, than you flame worshipping sacks have done." The Estermont boy said, addressing Ser Godry to his face.

"Anyways, the Lord of Light demands a worthy sacrifice for the storms to clear out. The Greyjoy woman has king's blood, a false king but king's blood nonetheless. One burning could benefit the rest of us long term." Corliss said.

"There will be no burnings today, nor will the Greyjoy woman be your fodder. She maybe Ironborn, but she is highborn and will be my hostage for the time being." The king interjected, with the Queen's Men shrinking back and were not bold enough to speak against the king.

"How are we going to survive here, Your Grace. The fish in the lakes are running out and our food rations are not enough." Lord Robin complained.

"We will make do with what we have, unless Lord Arnolf arrives with more food in his stores and more furs to keep us warm." Ser Justin Massey replied.

"Staying in the encampment will do us ill, it would be better if we discussed how we will defeat the Boltons with the Freys and other traitor northerners on their side."

"Ser Corliss, the reason why the traitors are fighting for the Boltons is the same reason why Hother Whoresbane is on their side. Fear and having much more to lose than the rest of us. The others will abandon them, unless Roose Bolton is dead and their frontlines are broken." Prince Jacob said.

"We have an advantage over the Boltons. Experienced commanders and men fighting for us. Roose Bolton relies on his Frey good family to lead his armies and we have veteran northmen, who have fought in these conditions before. Only the foolish would poke the Leech Lord into an open battle and will die for it." Ser Sorrell announced.

"What right do you have to speak amongst us, Reachman? Your family is sworn to the Tyrells, the king's true enemies." Lord Robin said accusingly.

"I have as much right to be on this table than most. I have been fighting alongside the king, since I brought his son back from Oldtown. I was there when we forced the wildlings to run back to their pitiful tents, and I was there when we pushed the Ironborn and took the lands of Highpoint. I am more capable of being on the king's side than some of you."

"Sorrell is right, Lord Pea. We have to strategize, this battle will be like no other. It will be the battle that makes us or that battle that we will fall on. The Karstarks will give us more men to fight for us and we will have enough to break through Bolton's lines." The Estermont boy said, in a confident tone.

Prince Jacob stood up, as he was on the king's right side. "The storm may delay us for a while, but we have to make do with what we have. The extra food stores will arrive soon, we have enough men, weapons and horses brought from the northern houses, who have declared for us."

"The rest of my forces will start building the trenches, and the Frey bastards will not know what hit them, when they fall and break their feeble bones." Mors Crowfood said, in a booming tone, eliciting cheers from the northmen.

The king may have led the war councils at the beginning of the War of the Five Kings, but he was more than willing to sit and observe how his son was controlling the situation. It was a test for Jacob to see whether he could handle the pressure of talking amongst many men. Stannis may have not taken notice of the Estermont knight, but the boy had more brains than half of his southern forces.

" _ **My son has done well to keep control of things. He has to learn to keep these men in line, if he ever thinks about ruling seven kingdoms when I depart from this world. I trust the Estermont boy to be a friend to my son rather than the Reachman, who has been protecting him."**_

The king was surrounded by idle fools and fanatics, but he was fortunate in having most of the King's Men with him on this journey south from Deepwood Motte. On the other hand, the Queen's Men were the minority amongst the various northmen and southorns brought from Dragonstone and the men he had left from Blackwater battle. Stannis knew it was not enough to fight the Boltons, who had the Freys, the Whitehills, the Ryswells and the Dustins on their side. The king knew his son had a talent of persuasion, as it was something Jacob learned from his time with the Tyrells and perfected the skill of deception better than the faltering Jon Arryn or the limbering Ned Stark.

The war meeting was disbanded, and the men began exiting the tent in their respective groups, according to their regional loyalties. It was almost time for the midday meal and to eat whatever was left of the food stores from Deepwood Motte. This war council was different to the others Stannis had been a part of in the past, because it was more about Jacob taking the reins and proving himself to have become the man he was meant to be for his house.

* * *

The war meeting had been over for a long period of the day. King Stannis had finished his evening meal with his son Prince Jacob present, alongside the knights Luthor Estermont and Sorrell Grimm. The two of them had the privilege in sharing meals with the king, as Luthor was kin to Stannis through his mother's maiden house and Sorrell being one of his more trusting of the King's Men and being Jacob's sworn shield. The long table was made of wood and not of great finery, as the watchtower was made to be an outpost for northerners to see their enemies in the distance.

The meal for the night was roasted venison, with the leftover vegetables that were not ruined by the long trek through the north's worst snowstorm in decades. To Stannis, food was a means to survive and was not for pleasure; he saw that gluttonous eating had turned Robert into a complacent king, with no regards for his kingdom and keeping his wife's despicable family under control. There were not many servants that travelled south with them, only ones brought by the highborn lords that joined him and ones for himself and his son, being the king and the prince on the road.

"So uncle, will you face the hideous Roose Bolton in single combat or will he be too much of a coward to face you in an open battle?" Luthor asked, in a tone laced in arrogance.

"As I said, I am not your uncle, but your cousin once removed." Stannis replied, in a bitter tone.

"Bad idea, Luthor. You know how father gets when people get proper titles and things wrong. The constant need to correct people can irritate you all the time." Jacob said, in a more cheerful tone.

"With your brother all the way in Braavos and the rest of your family being cowards. There might be some hope for you yet."

"Who is more hideous, Jake? Walder Frey or Roose Bolton?" The Estermont knight said, sniggering t the thought of his redundant question.

"Both of them will get what is coming to them. Old Walder sent many of his sons, nephews and grandsons to Winterfell with a sizeable force. Most of them will be dead by the time the battle is over. Lord Bolton is married to one of Walder Frey's many daughters, and she might make a good hostage next to Asha Greyjoy."

"What do you suppose we do with her, when we defeat the Boltons and Freys. I hope you have some rational ideas underneath those idioms of yours." The king muttered.

"The Greyjoy woman will stay wherever you see fit. She is known to be the king's prize, even though I was the one, who defeated her in single combat and captured her in the Wolfswood."

"Is it praise you want or is it recognition for a victory that was rightfully yours?"

"Men died for me to secure that victory in the Wolfswood. You were right about the Ironborn not being underestimated. They are hardened warriors, who will never kneel, especially to us greenlanders."

The Estermont knight placed a hand on Jacob's shoulder. "Come on, Jake. We won the battle and the Ironborn have been expelled from the North. We have to focus on fighting the Boltons and their Frey friends at Winterfell in a few fortnights."

"Ser Luthor, did you flee from Greenstone to join your rightful king, even though others of your house have bowed to the Lannisters?" The king asked.

"I never regretted running away from home. There was nothing for me in Greenstone anymore. With my brother, Ser Andrew gone, I cannot see myself betraying my own kin. I only joined this war to see my cousin again and to fight alongside him, Your Grace."

"And not for personal glory and honour. Good fighters are in short supply and I am fortunate to have one, such as yourself on the field."

Ser Luthor began pushing Jacob playfully, and the prince smiled at him. "What is she like, Jake? The Karstark girl you have to marry."

"Lord Arnolf and his sons will come to discuss the arrangements in due time. A sufficient dowry was offered in the original agreement in the exchange for his house's fealty to me."

"Still it's sad, Jake. Being forced to bed a girl so cold, so northern and does not even believe in the same faith as you."

King Stannis sensed Luthor's humour to come as insulting to him and his authority. He was the one, who decided Jacob to be married to Lord Rickard's daughter and he was not going back on his agreement with the lords of Karhold. The Karstarks have blood relations to the Starks, which is the reason why Stannis choose the Karstarks over the Manderlys for the marriage alliance. The marriage would have complications, due to his son and the bride worshipping different gods. It reminded the king of how Robert was to marry Lyanna Stark and he built a godswood in Storm's End to win his betrothed's affections.

The words of Ser Luthor were most convincing to Stannis. He believed the boy to be true to his word, of fleeing from the Stormlords to join him and his son in fighting the Boltons. The king also believed Luthor was hungry for glory, like most young men at war. It did not matter because Stannis was not wasteful and good fighters were needed for his cause and having someone from his mother's maiden house on his side might make things better for the short term. The king had no niceties towards House Estermont for bending the knee to Joffery when the Blackwater was lost, and they bent the knee to the boy king Tommen, cementing their disloyalty to their kin and their rightful king.

"Ser Luthor, you and Ser Sorrell are excused to take your leave. I would prefer to speak to my son alone and uninterrupted." The king said, in a clear tone.

* * *

The Estermont knight and the Greyshield man left the watchtower after the evening sup was over.

The table and utensils were cleared away by two servants, who were stationed here. Stannis sat on the crooked wood made bed with his arms folded. He was curious to know why Jacob's behaviour has changed over the years and how what happened at Wull's keep could have ruined the alliance with the mountain clansmen for good. The king expected this kind of rebellious behaviour from a boy just growing into manhood, but Jacob was a man of eight and ten and there was no excuse for this kind of conduct. He had to approach this with tact, to be nimble and to the point. The king cannot afford to alienate Jacob from his side, as he needed him more than he wanted to admit.

The prince sat opposite to his father with a neutral look on his face. As a father, Stannis could tell what emotions this son was displaying, without even asking him. It was the ability to read people from seeing how they act and how they present themselves to him. It was how Stannis was able to decipher the despicable from the people, who might not be too bad, compared to the schemers he has come across from his time in court. Jacob's head was lowered, and he was fidgeting with his fingers moving within his hand. He was less than interested in paying attention to whatever Stannis had to tell him.

"How long have you known about the plot between Davos and I, father?" Prince Jacob asked, with his arms folded.

"I have known, since I sent him away to White Harbor. I do not blame Davos for wanting to assist in finding you a wife, but you need to understand how vital this alliance with the Karstarks is to our cause and to your future as king."

"You may have accepted them as allies, but I don't. I know Arnolf and his sons are using this alliance as an opportunity to plot against us. Why would they support us, other than getting the rightful lord of House Karstark killed by the Lannisters and they can sell us to the Boltons?"

"You have remained unmarried far too long. It has been my greatest failure, since the war started. Your unmarried status tells our enemies, that you have flaws that make you an unsuitable husband to any woman, but it is my greatest advantage in this war."

"Is that what I am to you, a tool to be used to gain allies. I bet you do not treat Shireen this way." Jacob gritted between his teeth.

"The stakes are high in this game and there is a price to play. Jon Arryn and I made the decision to investigate the legitimacy of Cersei's children, by meeting and looking at Robert's bastards. The price of that decision was the Lord of the Vale ended up dead and I was lucky to be alive and escape to Dragonstone, when I had the chance."

"What does this have to do with the war now? The past failures will not help us beat Roose Bolton and his mad dog bastard on the field."

"I do not appreciate this behaviour from you, son. I expected this outburst of anger to have come from some unsettled issues from your past."

"It does come from the past." Prince Jacob shouted, standing up on his feet, glaring at his father. "I was humiliated by the incident that happened in the Arbor. It was an adolescent mistake that was turned into something it should not have become."

"You should have known interfering with a pre-made betrothal had consequences, why did you think Robert interfered. It was to preserve the honour of our house and to avoid a war with Houses Tarly and Redwyne."

"We should talk about it, father? Not pushing it aside when it's convenient for you. Why was I the one the be punished, whilst other actors of the plot got away with it with no losses to their names?"

"It was the only way to come to a compromise with Redwyne. I do not like Redwyne, for his crimes of starving your uncle and I during the Siege of Storm's End, but he has the second biggest navy in the Seven Kingdoms beneath the Ironborn. A king's nephew or no, everyone has to face the consequences for their actions. Renly's death was the consequence of his treason against us and Robert's death was the consequence of turning blind to how power-hungry the Lannisters were."

"I can't believe you are going through with the Karstark arrangement, after everything I told you about them. We should be cautious when Arnolf and his snivelling sons come to meet with us."

"Is that why you told Davos to find you a wife from House Manderly, knowing Lord Wyman bluffed my fealty spouting cowardice in my face. Is it because you still hold affection for the Redwyne girl, who spurned you?" Stannis said, in an iron tone.

"Desmera was betrothed, and I was foolish enough not to let go sooner. Had I thought through my actions, then things would be different? I should have put my pride to the side and be happy for her and Dickon, but the adolescent in me did not want to let go."

"You were only young, doing what foolish things young people do. You have grown from the boy raised in the Reach and became a man I am proud to call my son."

"As a man of few words and emotions. I means a lot to hear that from you, father. I thought all my life, you never loved me or appreciated all I have done for you. I should have been thankful for you, for even trying to help me, even though I acted ungrateful towards you." Prince Jacob said, with tears streaming from his eyes.

It was not what Stannis expected to see. This outpouring of emotional from his son was foreign to him, as an apathetic king. He could see how it meant more to Jacob to tell him everything, and to not feel the shame of hiding what he was feeling inside him for years. It hurt the king, to even think of his son feeling unloved and only saw himself as a tool to the king's cause. He never thought of Jacob's feelings and never considered them because they were an inconvenience to him as the rightful monarch of the Seven Kingdoms.

"You made mistakes, Jacob, but you have grown up, much during this war. Taking command of a host twice. You defeated the Greyjoy woman in single combat and constantly advise me against those, who plot against me."

"What if the Karstarks are playing us false? What if Arnolf is planning on selling Lord Rickard's daughter to one of the northern houses that support the Boltons?"

"We will execute them, if those claims are true and come to light. I had enough of traitors and bootlickers, but I must make use of what the Karstarks will offer to my cause. Never be wasteful of potential allies, Jacob, even when they are people you dislike deeply."

There was a sense of optimism within the king, as it was something strange and unlike what Stannis would do in the past. There was a long way to go, until he could sit on the throne he coveted, since this war began. There were also trials to go through to even stand a chance in take Winterfell from the Boltons and sealing an alliance with the North through the act of marriage.

As a king, uncompromising leadership was what Stannis always aimed for, but it cannot be at the expense of alienating Jacob from his side. It was what could have happened, if Stannis had not sat there and listened to what his son told him. It was better for the both of them to have some form of closure from the past and bury it where it should be. There was a battle coming, for the fate of the north and it could be the battle that can will make Stannis a legitimate threat to the Lannisters again.


	13. Jacob IV

**A/N: This beats Ch.11 for the longest chapter I have written. I wanted this chapter to expose another side of Jacob that has not been seen yet, a certain vulnerablity and growth within him. There is more in the chapter about the despot Karstarks led by Arnolf and Jacob's relationship with Asha, and how it will set up things for further down the line.**

* * *

 **Chapter Thirteen – Jacob IV**

"I can't believe I lost again." Ser Luthor Estermont yelled, slamming his fist onto the table, as the young knight lost another game of cyvasse. The man from Greenstone was an easy opponent to beat, since he was known to lose at the game in the Stormlands.

Prince Jacob smiled gleefully at yet another win again his cousin. It was a great way to spend time with the cousin that rebelled against his own house. His time was mostly spent on keeping order within the encampment and keeping an eye on the king's prize hostage. As a man in the middle of war, it was great to find comradery among men he could relate to. The prince sensed himself belonging with the northmen, and them giving that respect back to him. He was still processing the talk he had with his father days ago. It was something Jacob dreaded at the back of his mind, his father was not the most emotive of people. He realised that talking made things better between them, after the tension started to build after they had left Wull's Keep and during the war.

The young man chose to ignore the existence of Asha Greyjoy, all because he was focused on killing Boltons and Freys, not on a woman condemned by his father. He hated how he had to spend hours of the day watching her, alongside the She-Bear. She was obviously missing her lovers trapped in Deepwood Motte, as he could tell by the forlorn look on her face. Jacob never gave a damn, especially when the men brought whores with them to bed after the battles of Highpoint and Deepwood Motte.

As a young man, Jacob was patience in practicing abstinence and refrained from drinking any kind of wine ever. It was a way for him to stay strong, and not give into the temptations many men indulged themselves in. The prince was growing bored, and Luthor was not much company other than beating him at a game of cyvasse again. It was hard not having any friends around him, because everyone else obeyed him mindlessly, and it was starting to grate Jacob's nerves a lot.

As the king's son, he did whatever he wanted, until his father Stannis needed him or if the Karstark delegation arrived at the watchtower. He was not looking forward to seeing these snivelling men again. The prince would rather fight the battle now, than to deal with the worst lot from a proud northern house. Lord Arnolf, or otherwise known as the blemish on House Karstark and his equally chinless sons Arthor, Cregan and Harald. The old man was petty and the most disreputable northerner he has ever met. What made things even worse was that they were selling off Lord Rickard's daughter to him for an alliance that was only fraudulent as Arnolf's sense of decency towards anyone around him.

Jacob was beginning to suffer from the boredom staying in war camps presented. There was nothing to entertain him, apart from antagonising the Greyjoy woman. It was fun poking the kraken at least twice a day. It was all a game to Asha, who would call him greenlander or the _sweet_ green prince, even though he was anything but sweet. That word was mostly used to describe men like Loras Tyrell and his Uncle Renly, but not the only son of the harshest man in the Seven Kingdoms.

Most of his father's soldiers and captains were King's Men and had the bigger numbers amongst them. They would pray to the Seven at every rationed meal and when they go to bed at night. This destitute place did not even have a Godswood for the northerners to pray to the Old Gods whenever they could, but they made do with what they brought with them from the west of the northern mountains. The northerners and the King's Men shared their dislike for the Queen's Men, whom were the minority amongst his father's soldiers, which made the arguments a lot harder to defuse between the two sides.

"I'm surprised you are not married yet, cousin. I thought with your riverlander looks, you would get a wife before me." Jacob asked.

"I'm only a knight, Jake. My father is not even the heir to Greenstone, but that title belongs cousin Aemon and the children he has." Luthor replied.

"This is miserable. Can Roose Bolton come out and fight? I'm bored just sitting here." The prince growled, folding his arms across his chest.

"Tell me about the Karstark girl, your father is forcing you to marry."

"I met her in Winterfell once, Luthor and I'm not sure if I want to marry into House Karstark. I would, to save the girl from whomever of Roose Bolton's allies Arnolf will sell her towards. She lost her father to Robb Stark beheading him, her brothers died in the Riverlands and she will be marrying a southerner, who worships the Andal religion."

"Did your plot with the onion knight work out or did your father put a stop to it?"

"I do not know, Luthor. He only spoke about of it days ago and nothing more. My father maybe a stubborn man, but he is not stupid. He sees the Manderlys make better allies than the Karstarks in the long term. They have the coin and many of horse and knights to support us, what do the Karstarks have to offer, other than Lord Rickard's grief-stricken daughter."

"You are a cold man, Jake. No wonder why you are still unmarried."

"I don't care. I would rather be a spinster for the rest of my life than marry a northerner. I should listen to my mother's idea, wait until the war is over and settle down to a southern bride of her choice, it's better than being stuck with the Karstark girl forever."

"Before the war started, your wedding would have been a great event. With Robert as king and wanting to make a big deal of everything for his only nephew. Your father would insist you being wed in Storm's End, to respect the ancestors and all, but Renly would be more for Highgarden, with his Tyrell affiliations." Luthor said, with a smile on his face.

"Who would have been the unfortunate bride in that fantasy cousin? No one would be willing to marry someone, who is not the heir of Storm's End nor whom lived on a desolate island of dragon statues and poor prospects."

"Some Reachman's daughter for sure. Those greedy lords would not resist an opportunity to get closer to the royal family."

"There is nothing more to dwell on. We are in the middle of the worse snowstorm in centuries and we are going to battle two of the worst houses in the Seven Kingdoms."

Luthor pulled a face that looked like a scowl. "You are such a stiff, Jake. Can't even lighten up without your father around?"

The prince folded his arms. He hated it when anyone would point out his very visible flaws right in his face. Jacob was not the kind of person, who would be nice to anyone, even though some people did not deserve it at all. The world nowadays was a cruel place for people, who were not as ruthless as Tywin Lannister or ambitious as Mace Tyrell. It was the honourable fools, who died in the last four years, and the deaths of Ned Stark, Jon Arryn, Robb Stark and Oberyn Martell made Jacob more cautious of his moves and to think things through a lot more. It was careful thinking that led to the reclamation of the Forrester lands from the hands of the grubby Whitehills and it led him to his victory in the battle of the Wolfswood.

Prince Jacob was not a man for songs, but he tried to be for his sister's sake. Shireen was just a child princess, who was thrust into a role she did not wish for. The war showed him the heroes in the fictional songs were just fables and fantasies. Being fostered in the Reach made Jacob immune to the grandeur of everything around him. Luthor was the only ally he had in this desolate war camp, as Sorrell was busy being thrust in a leadership position amongst the King's Men, who were misguided after the departure of their senior members after the freeing of Edric Storm from Melisandre's grasp.

" _ **I'm happy for him in truth. Sorrell deserves such praise, after everything he went through for me. He is still around and I'm thankful he is here. The knight will never be what Davos is for me, and it's okay because Davos will return."**_

The prince and his cousin were amused of how House Frey's remaining heirs will be girls and small boys, because of all the men will be killed when the war ended. In Jacob's mind, the Freys were just as bad as the Boltons, but the two houses were welcome to each other. He was bored of waiting for the biggest battle of his life to come faster than he had to wait for Lord Arnolf's Karstark reinforcements to come through for his father with the men and the food stores for them.

* * *

The young man left the tent. He was too bored even think about spending anyone time with Luthor; it drove him mad to even play another cyvasse game with his cousin any longer. He was desperate for a spark of excitement on this day. It was too boring, and he was close to gutting a man for no reason other than perverse boredom.

It was not that Jacob hated Luthor, but he was grateful for someone to talk to other than Sorrell Grimm. He needed to do something with himself, maybe even train for the battle so he does not get slow when it comes to the actual fighting on the field. His swordplay needed work and years of training with Randyll Tarly taught him to be aware of his surroundings and to ever miss a step.

The prince had to leave his father's side because of boredom and he was in council with the northern lords and the Mormonts. It grated him to be dismissed from a council meeting. He would never miss one, since his father began the war, but there must have been a reason for it. Jacob got the idea to start poking at Asha Greyjoy for the fun or it. She proved good conversation, when others around him were too boring and were too afraid to even humour him.

The cold didn't bother him because he was used to it. The snowstorm did not let up in the slightest. Jacob was heavily cloaked in two layers of furs to keep him comfortable, and for him to function in the armour beneath the furs. The idea of marrying a northerner was not so well received by Jacob's queen mother Selyse, because she wanted him to settle down to a southorn bride of her choice.

He understood where his mother was coming from. Queen Selyse did not begrudge her only son in worshipping the faith she abandoned from her girlhood. Jacob's belief in the Seven kept the King's Men and the remaining southerners loyal to his father, and maybe being the pious man, he was could have an advantage when it came to convincing the Faith itself to depose the Lannisters and Tyrells from the throne.

The prince was strolling through the protected encampment; his eye was caught on men from the Umber ranks passing him by. He wanted to be alone, away from being surrounded by people constantly, during the day. The heir of House Baratheon frowned, seeing a burning ember in the distance in front of him. He was used to the Queen's Men making their nightfires, but with their current situation of being in a place so cold, no one knew where the sun was in the day.

Jacob trekked through however long miles of snow, he could to get a step closer to the burning ember in the distance. His nose was numb to the snowflakes falling upon his face. He brushed the snow from his clothes and his hair. The petulant prince had grown up and was unrecognisable from the boy of five and ten who went to war with his father. There were no mirrors for him to see what he looked like as a man, but he was curious to know. Luthor complimented his growing beard, even though it had been trimmed by the clansmen, as a show of gratitude. It was growing past his chin in inches, but the facial hair covered his jawline. The prince took note of his chipped and filthy fingernails, which were pink, due to the severity of the cold.

The man knew he changed on the inside, as well as the outside. His heart hardened, from battle after battle. From the blood spilt from his blade, and from manuvering in court politics to eliminate any potential threats to him and his father's successes. Jacob was happy to have half the credit for the battle victories, but it made him grit his teeth when his father would have more of the credit. He was the one, who was on the frontlines, leading the hosts through one bloody battle after another.

Jacob was closer to the glowing ember, but it was not light. Not light as in the light that looked like the beacon from the grand Hightower. It was something brighter than that, as it looked to be another nightfire being lit up. The fire was something to behold in the middle of snowstorm, and it was known for the nightfires to go out without sufficient firewood. He had no interest in watching foolish men worship at the feet of a demon god, and not even the wise Crone could guide these lost souls now.

The prince was closer to the fire, and he heard the curling scream enter his ears. He did not care who the Queen's Men were going to use for their sacrifice fodder, but at least it wasn't Asha Greyjoy. The iron bitch needed to be kept alive, so his father Stannis could show her off in chains to the northern lords, after the reclamation of Winterfell. He found it more difficult to decipher his father because the two separated almost every day, since they got to this encampment. It was better for both father and son not to be around each other so much, it could cause unwanted tension of being stuck together all the time.

The Wall was cold and miserable, but the worst thing was being stuck with his father in a dreary black castle every day, until his father planned the northern war effort. The prince exhaled out a breath that he could see. Jacob had grown so accustomed to the cold that he almost considered himself to be a northerner in a previous life. Looking at the burning nightfire could be the only moment of freedom Jacob had left before he was forced to look upon the hideousness of Arnolf Karstark and his equally ugly brood.

The prince had to keep going for as long as he could. There was no way he was going to give up, it was not in his Baratheon nature just to sit there and wait for death to come. He was going to charge towards the stranger when he sees him on the battlefield. The idea of death excited Jacob, and he did not dread it as much. As an adolescent, he was afraid of dying because there was so much he wanted to do before his death. He was too young, to have so much responsibility placed on his shoulders, but as his father's only son, he had no choice. He was the heir to a dying house, and he was the key to House Baratheon surviving after the war ended.

" _ **I am the rightful heir to House Baratheon and the throne. And I will not be afraid of anything at all. I had to stomach the brutality of war at five and ten, and I had to do what was needed to be done. I killed my first man at thirteen and it was a bandit near the Gold Road. It was the first time I had seen Randyll Tarly ever smile with that grim look of his. He was prouder of me than he was of his own sons."**_

The blaze of the nightfire was right in his sight. His nose wrinkled at the smell radiating from the flames, as it's putrid scent was of wood burning, and there was a lot of broken crates used by the Queen's Men to make their flame burn brighter. Jacob had seen plenty of nightfires, especially seeing his mother praying to the red god, alongside the men, who named themselves after her.

At corner of his eye, the prince caught a glimpse at the She-Bear and Greyjoy leech standing as far they could from the sight of the Queen's Men. Were they planning on burning her, even though his father denied them their thirst for her blood? It would be a shame thought, not have the satisfaction of not dying in battle and only be used as fodder by demon worshipping fanatics, who were only converted this religion because they were in love with the red priestess from Asshai.

Prince Jacob stared hawk-eyed on the few he knew. The ringleader Godry Farring with his big puffing chest; his right-hand Clayton Suggs, who cruelty to him was like wine to a drunkard; the cowardly Corliss Penny and Robin Peasebury, the one with no mind of his own. The prince sniffed the air to catch the putrid odour of rotting flesh, as it was prominent. It must have been from the men, whom died from the cold. He did not know the ones, who died, but he knew the ones, who were still living and were in his face. Jacob trekked further to get closer to the rising flames of the nightfire; he would not mind if the Queen's Men were cooking what was left over of the food reserves into one big crockpot to share amongst them.

"The Lord of Light shall protect us from darkness and halt the storm." Ser Godry said, in a tone that was of a praying man, but a fanatic.

The prince observed on his left to see that a few of the Queen's Men had recognised him from the northmen they were feuding with. Jacob had to stop this before the two side began killing each other, and he did not see any King's Men in sight. He tried to be civil with these men, but he could not stand by whilst innocent people were subjected to their torment, all in the name of their god.

"Your Grace, we are glad you arrived. Reason with these savage tree worshippers." Lord Robin said, in a tone that reminded him vaguely of Joffrey's callous way of talking to people.

"Why? What you done to insult the northerners, who have come down from their homes to support us in the war?" The prince asked, not trusting a word the Pea Lord said.

"The snow is the wroth of the old gods, it seems these southrons are ignorant to the north's ways." Artos Flint said, and he looked to be close to at least breaking Lord Robin's arm for that insult.

"The old gods are watching us all. Red Rahloo means nothing in these parts. You fools will only ignite the wroth of the old gods." Hugo Wull replied.

"You northmen and your demon trees brought this snow upon us. The Lord of Light will save us." Corliss said.

"Your god will doom all of us. The King's Men, the northerners and my father most of all. As your future king, I demand to know why you are lighting such a big nightfire. It's obvious the wood is not for your nightly prayers. You a lot are wasting good firewood that could have lasted for at least four days."

"Your Grace, we discovered a sickening plot. Four men of House Peasebury were caught red handed, eating the flesh of the men, who have died coming south with us. The dead man, they were eating was of House Fell, and we caught them shoving his fingers into their mouths. There were others like them, but they felt the flames of R'hllor tonight." Ser Godry admitted.

The prince placed a hand over his mouth, trying to stop himself from wrenching. "Gods be good, were these men apprehended for their crimes."

"Yes, Your Grace, and they will be prepared for sacrifice in due time." The Penny man said, agreeing with Farring's testimony.

Prince Jacob was sickened of what he heard. He heard stories of cannibalism from Robb and Jon years ago, as it was about a small island invisible to the north. It was Skagos, a place where horned horses would wonder about and where the flesh eaters lived. As a southern boy, Jacob never believed these depraved people were real, until now. A dead man was feasted upon by starving men of a house that neither southorns or northerners respected at all. Whom would respect men, who bored the sigil of a small green pea? It was worse than the Tyrell rose, which looked awfully boring on its own without the thorns. It was stomach wrenching to even imagine it, the poor man of House Fell with nothing to his name will now be known as the man, who was eaten by the Queen's Men.

He never liked the Queen's Men's routine burnings, but there was a special exception he could make for them. Give them what they want for now, and they would leave the thought of burning Asha Greyjoy alone. The prince could not be seen watching from a considerable distance, it would raise suspicion between the northerners and the southerners. He was already being forced to marry the Karstark girl, someone he hardly knew and only saw her once in Winterfell.

At the back of his mind, Prince Jacob knew the food stores had run out. The leftover rations were all but small bed crumbs, enough to feed the ravens lurking about. As the prince, he was fortunate to eat a good meal with his father, but for lesser men, they were lucky to even taste cooked meat.

He hated to miss Storm's End and Renly, but the only decent memory he had of his traitor uncle was how Renly would spoil him out of spite towards his father. As the last son born of Baratheon colouring, his uncles made sure he was loved and provided for. He may have been born into meagre prospects on Dragonstone, but he was treated as if he was the heir to Storm's End, and not any son Renly would have had. Jacob wished his relationship with Renly was not full of poison, and they would have gotten along otherwise. It was too late for any sorry sympathies. He and his father were the last trueborn Baratheon men alive. He was the heir of a great house close to collapsing, like the Targaryen dynasty, whose only surviving heir was a young woman on the other side of the world.

The men being punished had resorted to eating their own dead, after the food had run out. It was disgusting to think about it, but he understood the reason why. It did not excuse them for eating a fellow man at war. They had to die for their crimes, as it would be payment for how their victim had no burial and was how in the stomachs of the men, who had eaten him. The brutality of what men would do to survive dawned on him, as the worst thing Jacob had ever done was tell his father off, and the disgraced of House Peasebury had become cannibals to survive the torturous snowstorm.

"Ser Clayton, bring in the sacrifices." Ser Godry commanded, solidifying his status as the now ringleader of the Queen's Men, with Uncle Axell at the Wall protecting Jacob's mother and sister. The man was the bigger of them all and was the one the others feared.

The prince witnessed the four flesh-eaters brought before a curious audience. Ser Clayton was a man of little subtlety and liked the taste of cruelty on his tongue. The wrists of the cannibals were tied behind their backs with leather strips. The men lowered their heads, as they were disgraced in front of the Queen's Men and the northmen. Prince Jacob caught sight of the youngest of them weeping, as if he did not know what he was being punished for.

It was a pitiful sight to see. All four men were as thin as wood sticks and short of stature, compared to the puffing chest of Ser Godry. His initial thought of the flesh-eaters was to condemn them as monsters for what they have done, however seeing them tied and subjected to Ser Clayton's torment made them look more like victims of unforgiving circumstances. There were King's Men in attendance, but not to watch the man-eaters be punished, as they were there to protect the prince, if the Queen's Men or the northmen decide to target him in their forever anger in their difference of faith.

Prince Jacob had a strong stomach, as he has grown up now. He would be lying to say he was not afraid. As the prince, he was lucky to be protected and sheltered from such horrific punishment, but the Queen's Men were displaying this all for him.

The oldest of the man-eaters must be their ringleader. He was alone in his resistance to his conduct by the Queen's Men, who pushed him along with their spears. The man let out of blood curdling laugh, and then confessed how he laughed when Ser Godry's cousin died and described in disgusting detail of how he and his men wished they had eaten the king's dead squire. The man suffered a blow from Ser Corliss's spear, which drove the men to his knees, but it did not keep him quiet all, as it made him more defiant against the Queen's Men.

"The cock's the choicest part of all, crisped up on the spit. A fat little sausage to devour." The man continued, as it made Jacob's stomach queasy of hearing such gruesome detail of how a man desired eating another man's manhood and was not at all ashamed of it. "Fuck all you red god fanatics, all of you to the seven hells." The man said, in a darkened laughter.

The prince's eyes widened, when the flesh-eater turned to stare at him, after he finished insulting the others. "And you boy, watching these red fanatics burn us alive. What sort of king will you be, when your father dies. You will be one of them, when they get done twisting your mind and turning into a raving fanatic like their leader Axell Florent." The prince could not show weakness in front of these men, and not even the Greyjoy woman and Alysane Mormont, who looked to be miserable of having to watch this display.

The man began crawling towards the prince's direction. Jacob's heart was racing, and his fingers were shaking. He did not know what to do in this moment, as he was numbing himself to what was going on around him. The prince took a few steps back, but the men clad in the red and white sigil of House Follard unleashed their swords in order to protect the prince from the crawling madman.

Ser Clayton opened the man's throat in front of them all. The blood seeping from the man's throat splattered the ground to stain the white snows in red. At least, Ser Clayton got his fill of blood for the day and Jacob was surprised to be saved by a knight he had no love for. The Queen's Men may be an annoyance, but when it came down to it, they would do their duty in protecting him from danger.

The rush of blood through the prince's body tempered, and he caught his eye on the weeping man, who was sobbing even more. It was too pitiful to look at, but the man knew what he was being punished for and the consequences of his crime. The prince's Follard knights were alert and did not take any chances with anyone. The sobbing man's physique was gruesome to see. He was so thin, as his internal organs and bones were visible to the eyes. Prince Jacob wanted to get closer, but he knew the Follard knights were on guard to shield him. He wondered where Sorrell was, as the man was his sworn shield and was supposed to protect him. It seemed Ser Clayton did Sorrell's duty for him by opening the defiant man's throat for cussing at him.

"Please…..Your Grace…..he was dead. He was dead…so hungry we were." The weeping man was begging and looked his eyes at the prince. This moment would traumatise Jacob more than the aftermath of any battle would.

The four flesh-eaters were chained together, two on each stake and the Queen's Men were staking split logs and broken sticks upon their feet. The most devout of R'hllor's followers finished wasting good logs that could have lasted more than two days. The pile of wood sticks was doused with lamp oil, which was in short supply from the portion given to them by Sybelle Glover. Jacob hated to see valuable supply items go to waste on such fruitless things, especially when they were struggling to maintain the small food rations they had and the fish from the frozen lakes were empty. The Queen's Men were on borrowed time, with the snows falling harder and it would spell doom for the firewood they were using to punish the flesh-eaters.

"Where is the king?" Ser Corliss asked.

Prince Jacob never thought of his father's whereabouts; he knew his father Stannis never came out of the watchtower, unless he needed to. It had been four days, since Bryen Farring, one of his father's squires scummed to the cold and died. The funeral pyre was short and to the point, seeing the boy's body being burned did not move his father at all. The prince knew, since then his father locked himself in the watchtower, and would not talk to anyone, unless it was him, Ser Richard or Luthor. Jacob had known his father had experienced seeing people die in war before, but it was not new to him because he saw men die in the Greyjoy Rebellion, and saw men die in the wildfire explosion trick by the Imp.

For the prince, it was the first time it had been just him and his father. Without the niggling sight of Melisandre costing about. As they got further south, it was better his father was further away from the corruption the Red Woman had done to him. It had been Jacob's plot, to use the opportunity of war to separate his father from Melisandre. He would have his father back, and not see the sullen shadow from Castle Black anymore.

"The king has arrived." A dry toned voice said, with the prince turning to see Ser Richard standing in a knightly fashion. He was in his quilted doublet, as it was well made for a man of his status. It was in the death head moth symbol of his house. Jacob wished more knights were like Ser Richard, obedient and loyal without a question towards his king.

The prince was astonished to see his father, King Stannis with the queen's man. Behind them, was a face Jacob hoped to never see again. The man sees Arnolf Karstark struggling to keep at his father and Ser Richard's pace, hobbling on his blackthorn cane. He had not known the castellan had arrived so quick. Jacob knew from the night before how Arnolf was bringing his two sons Arthor and Harald, and his three grandsons with him to the table to discuss the arrangements for the alliance and the eventual wedding. The castellan of Karhold was also bringing four hundred spears, two score archers, a dozen mounted lances, a maester, a cage of ravens and only enough provisions to sustain his own forces.

The crooked man before him was gaunt, with his left shoulder taller than his right by a foot. Arnolf had not changed, since Jacob last saw him, and he was the same man, but his eyes were squinter and his yellow teeth would scare the most impressionable of children. The castellan was close to being bald, but only a few white hairs remained on his head. His forked beard was always ragged, as it was in grey and white. The man's sour smiles made Jacob decide Arnolf was one the worst men he had ever met in his life. He made a promise to Jon at the Wall, that he would never allow that man and his horrid brood to sit in Winterfell.

What was a Karstark doing? Watching the Queen's Men burn cannibals alive. Was he curious or was it something he could tell his sons and grandsons about later. The sight of his father made the bound man plead for clemency and for their lives to be spared, but he did not care at all. The prince could sense his father knew he was around and would want him to come to the watchtower after the sacrifice was done. Lord Arnolf and the Karstark retinue were here and it would be rude for the prince to dismiss their company.

The king was rubbing the side of his forehead. "Get on with it, as you may." Jacob knew his father was numb to seeing men burnt alive, but did he know the men being sacrificed to R'hllor were flesh-eaters and one of them tried to attack him.

Ser Godry, the Giantslayer began the first rites of prayer, and for a man, who liked to show off. He was dedicated to the religion Melisandre brought over from her homeland in the east. The man and the rest of the Queen's Men were chanting the words of their prayer towards their god. As someone who opposed R'hllor's religion, Prince Jacob saw a frightening beauty in what these men were doing, they were punishing criminals in the name of their lord, but this time, the punishment was fitting to what the flesh-eaters had done. The Giantslayer's display of passion was foreign to Jacob, who was only used to the man tormenting or killing people, but he had to remain neutral when it came to the petty spats between the Queen's Men and the northmen.

"We thank you for the sun that warms us and pray, you will return it to us, oh, lord that it might light our path to your foes. We thank you for the stars that watch over us by night and pray that you will rip away the veil that hides them, so we might bask in the glory in their sight once more."

Ser Corliss stepped forward with a torch in hand, he used it to spook the captives even more. For someone, as hard-minded as Jacob; he had seen their nightfires many times, but nothing like this because he shielded himself from the reality of R'hllor's sacrifices. As a younger man, Jacob thought of the burnings to be barbaric, and he still did, but his mind has changed through the course of his travels through the north. It was war and there was no time for having second thoughts nor was it the time to start thinking of the days before the war started.

"R'hllor. We give you four evil men. With glad hearts and true, we give them to your cleansing fires, that the darkness in their souls be burned away. Let their vile flesh be seared and blackened, that their spirits might rise free and pure to ascend into the light. Accept their blood, oh lord, and melt the icy chains that bind your servants. Hear their pain, and grand strength to our swords that we might shed the blood of your foes. Accept this sacrifice, and show us the way to Winterfell, and we may vanquish the unbelievers." Ser Godry chanted, and the other queen's men followed him in prayer.

The prayers of the red god were dark in nature, but it was strange to Jacob. These men truly believed what they were doing was righteous. It was a thought to be extended towards the Lady Melisandre, who also believed in her mission to help save the world from the White Walkers.

The man was starting to have a sudden change in perspective and growing up has made him wiser to how his earlier views were of a young boy. Jacob knew why he disliked the Red Woman, and it was because he wanted to save his father from being killed by the Faith for what Melisandre has been poisoning in his mind. As he was further away, he began to understand how the snowstorm in the north a sign of even more dangerous times was to come, and how Melisandre's goals were more for making sure the world survived and finding a saviour to fight the Great Other in the Battle of Dawn.

"Oh, Lord of Light, accept this sacrifice, as the token of our appreciation." The hundred voices of the Queen's Men echoed over the other voices.

The first pyre was lit, and the smoke from the rising flames were spreading. The prisoners began to splutter coughs, and then the flames came out from the shadow of the darkened grey smoke. The fire was spreading rapidly, and both stakes of captives were engulfed in even larger flames. Seeing these men burn was awfully like how Jacob had to witness great-uncle Alester Florent be burned alive for his crimes against his father. It had been an unpleasant experience to witness, a member of his own family be punished this way. He never thought of Lord Alester until now. Seeing these things were bringing back small reminiscences of the past, things Jacob wanted to keep buried and never see in broad daylight again.

The weeping boy from minutes ago, the only one with any sense of sorrow in him was screaming as the flames roasted through his legs. "He was dead, Your Grace. We found him dead…please….we were so hungry." It was unfortunate, as the poor boy should have been put out of his misery, so Jacob could not hear him wailing no more.

The broken shrieks of the burning men rang in the ears of the prince, what was more disturbing was how neutral his father's expression was. He must have been told about what those four men had done and how the Queen's Men could have explained to him in the horrific detail they did to him.

Prince Jacob's stomach began to be queasy again, and he was almost close to losing the meal he had eaten long before. He was more than capable of holding the sick feeling in his stomach at bay. The man had never experienced a full on burning, since Lord Alester's death, but unlike the fallen lord, he had some pity towards the cannibals, for they only did what they had to do to survive with no food rations in sight. The screams of the men roasting to death will in no doubt haunt Jacob for years to come, and that sight will still haunt him when he gets to his father's middle-age and he is the king.

"For the night is dark and full of terrors." Ser Corliss said, and the other Queen's Men followed and repeated the forever recurring line of their religion.

After the dead man, Ser Clayton killed burned. The screaming stopped at a complete silence, and the four flesh-eaters were a pile of ash and bones now. The prince sneezed, due to the dust itching his nose and he did not want to catch a cold in this dreadful storm. He had to be as healthy as he could to fight the war against the Boltons further, and it would do his father any good if Jacob got sick at the wrong time.

At the corner of his eye, Jacob sees his father go back to the empty watchtower and finally go blind from staring into the fires of the hearth again. Arnolf hobbled after him, with Ser Richard giving the aging lord assistance to go towards the longhall, claimed by the captains and minor bannermen to eat their meals and to have somewhere warm to rest in, before they had to go back to their cold, snow feasted tents for the night.

* * *

The man was in the watchtower, and it was like a gilded cage. All the good freedom he had over the last six days were gone, and he was stuck in the tower. Jacob had to separate himself from Luthor and Sorrell, because the two men were not of importance in a discussion relating to the marriage and the future prosperity of House Baratheon and House Karstark.

Prince Jacob was sitting on one of the wooden chairs and had his left leg over his right one. He was forced to shave some of his beard growth for the occasion, as he was going to have supper with the Karstarks and his father. A shiver when down his spine, when Jacob entered the watchtower to see the equally hideous sons of Arnolf standing there, hawking at him, as if he was a piece of new jewellery. He hated them all, and maybe marrying Alys might save her from being stuck with these men for the rest of her life.

The prince had to put on his best southern good boy face on and try to be civil with these men until his father had no further use for them. He sat next to his father Stannis on his right side, and the Karstark men were sitting on the opposite side of them. The grandsons of Arnolf were sent away because this discussion was for the eyes of men and not little boys, all was left of them was the crooked lord and his two middle-aged sons, who could be mistaken for cooks and not lower-class members of a proud northern house.

Jacob had a separate plate of food, as he refused to eat any of the food cooked by Karstark servants or drink wine poured by Arnolf or his sons. Seeing the men arrive in the watchtower made Jacob think of where Arnolf's firstborn and heir Cregan was. He knew the hobbling lord had three sons, and yet he only brought two of them south with him. Somebody had to oversee Karhold whilst the other Karstarks were gone.

The prince's father was welcoming of the supper and appeased the most dedicated of his northern allies the best he could. The three Karstarks brought as much as they could south, including food and a considerable amount of wine because Harald was known to be a drunkard, it was known in the North and it was why the man never married at all. The watchtower was warm enough to shield the five men from the freezing cold of what laid outside, but for Jacob it was another reminder of how the battle against the Boltons and Freys will be delayed longer than he would have wanted it to be.

Jacob sensed discomfort within himself, knowing Harrion Karstark was going to be killed because of what these men had done, by declaring fealty to his father. It was even worse thinking about what would happened, if he refused to marry Alys, would he be responsible for her being subjected to gods know what, in the hands of Arnolf and his sons. As a man used to having his freedom, it was sore to be restrained and having to be commanded to marry a girl chosen for him by his father.

" _ **These cretans would have chosen an even worse husband for Alys, most likely from Roose Bolton's northern allies and Frey good family. I'm guilty of refusing the responsibility of being a northern woman's husband, when we do not even worship the same gods. The difference in faith had no baring in Ned Stark's marriage to Catelyn Tully, and maybe the difference in belief might bring us closer together."**_

The supper was pleasant, as it was better than what Jacob had eaten before. He drunk water, and not the wine provided by Lord Arnolf. The sight of Harald, the third son deep in his wine cups made the old lord raised an eyebrow and twitch his mouth. It seems Arnolf wanted his sons to be on their best behaviours, as they should be honoured to have supper with the king and his heir and should not act the loose drunkards from Karhold.

"Was the roasted meat to your tastes, Your Grace?" Lord Arnolf was the first to speak, in that grating voice that reminded him of that strict septon Jacob had to deal with in Horn Hill as a boy.

"The supper was fine enough, my lord." King Stannis replied, in a drier tone. He did also not touch the wine poured for him by the servant in Arnolf's retinue.

"Travelling all the way south has made this old man weary, but I do what I must to lend my support to you and your son against the Boltons and take back Winterfell."

"I thought you and your sons were here to discuss the marriage alliance, and not the war that is ahead of us, my lord." Prince Jacob interjected, sipping his water cup and was satisfied from the taste having water gave him.

"Of course, it was one of the reasons why I pledged House Karstark to your cause in the north, Your Grace. Harald? Do you have anything to contribute to his discussion?"

The lord's third son Harald was not coherent because of him being drunk, but he was alert enough to hear his father's command. "Our cousin is fortunate to find a good husband, such as yourself, Prince Jacob. Her betrothed being killed in Robb Stark's war was a tragedy indeed, but with death comes new opportunities."

"It's terrible to know Roose Bolton was vying for Alys, due to House Karstark having blood ties to the Starks going back generations. To sell her off to some Whitehill or Frey traitor, and we would not allow such a thing to happen. With Lord Rickard and his sons dead, she is the legitimate heir to Karhold, which could make this marriage more complicated than it seems."

"What are you talking about father? I thought we were going…." The second son Arthor spoke out, with his father hitting him with his blackthorn cane, his brother Harald was amused by the sight of the other brother being disciplined by his father, as a man grown.

"Silence yourself, Arthor. Your tendency to talk too much will have you at your deathbed, sooner rather than later. Such poor conduct in front of His Grace, the king and his son, the prince. You will speak unless you have been spoken to, Arthor, do I make myself clear."

"Yes, father." Arthor said, in a drown out tone. The man kept his mouth shut, as he was nursing the spot where his father had hit him with his cane.

Lord Arnolf crossed his fingers over the ones on his other hand. The man maybe old, but he was no feeble man. He was just like Grand Maester Pycelle and that septon from Horn Hill in that regard. Using his age to make people blind of how much of a morally despicable man he was. The lord was good, and he almost convinced Jacob that he had any genuine regards to his bride's safety.

"We shall have the wedding in Winterfell's godswood, a perfect marriage of the north and the south, just like Lord Eddard and Lady Catelyn. It matters not, Your Grace. A son from the prince and Alys's marriage will also be the heir to House Karstark as well as the throne."

"A wedding in the godswood would be a good suggestion, to appease the northern lords, but my son is of the Faith and would not take to marrying near the religious territory of other gods. The southerners in my army and my wife would not take well to it." The king replied.

"I had never taken the difference in religion to be a barrier, Your Grace. We Karstarks are of the old gods, and Lord Rickard would not take well to his daughter being wed in a southorn sept, and not in the eyes of the old gods."

"Lord Rickard is dead, father. What does his thoughts and opinions matter?" Harald said, in an arrogant tone of voice. The man had his arms folded and did not care what he just said made Jacob's father raise his eyebrow and thought the man was just drunk and not making sense of what he said.

"He was related to you and the Lord of Karhold, before Robb Stark took his head. Alys is the only child he has that is free from the Lannisters, unlike her unfortunate last brother, who is being held in Maidenpool."

"And what are you doing to ensure your rightful lord's freedom, Lord Arnolf. I have not heard you doing anything for Lord Harrion at all?" Prince Jacob wondered, and he glared at the old man and his empty-headed sons right in the face.

"The poor boy will be dead one way or the other. Alys is the future of House Karstark, woman or no. A good husband such as yourself will benefit her and our house for years to come. You must see, my prince. How important you are to the survival of our house and your father's house." Lord Arnolf said, and there was a tinge of sincerity coming from his voice, but Jacob doubted it to be true.

"The dowry Lord Rickard prepared for Alys's marriage to the Blackwood boy was fair, and the dowry for this arrangement will be higher than her last betrothal. Your son and yourself are the last surviving men of your house, and only deserve the best from us."

The prince wanted to bust out in laughter, did Lord Arnolf expect him to fall for those finely tuned words of his. It was enough to make an ignorant court lord feel sorry for the old man, but a wiser man knew better, and he was wondering what this man's motive behind was selling Alys off to him and his father. It must be the ultimate lordship of Karhold and all the Karstark land surrounding it, with Lord Harrion a captive of the Lannisters and Alys married off to him. Jacob knew Arnolf wanted to grasp power this way, and for his three sons and grandsons to benefit from it. The man was only a castellan with no rights to the Karstark lands, unless he was still alive by the time a son was born from Jacob and Alys, and that boy would have more rights to Lord Rickard's lands than a chinless castellan.

"The dowry is sufficient enough, but spoils from the Boltons and Freys will be good enough for the wedding to go on in Winterfell. The wedding will not go ahead, unless I have seen the bride and met the girl for myself, alongside my lady wife. The Queen has been looking forward to seeing our only son be married and it might take longer for her and the rest of the Queen's Men to arrive from The Wall."

"A great idea, Your Grace. Using the spoils from our enemies to finance the wedding would be a mutually beneficial plan for both sides, since House Karstark has already pledged a significant amount of coin and resources to your cause." Said Harald, in a duller tone.

"If it's not much, I would like to meet my future wife after the battle with the Boltons and Freys is done, it would be improper if I did not meet the girl I am going to spend the rest of my life with." Prince Jacob asked.

"It will be done, Prince Jacob. It would be an honour to be the man, known for planning the next great northern and southern marriage, in times of war. It will be settled; my eldest son will bring Alys from Karhold to Winterfell after the battle." Lord Arnolf agreed.

"There is also the matter of keeping your end of the deal, my lord. With other northern houses vying my son as a husband for their maiden daughters, it will be prudent for us to keep our alliance a secret until further notice." King Stannis said, in a blunt tone.

"I understand, Your Grace. With the Lannister and Tyrell alliance close to collapsing, and your son being a man grown and unmarried. Other lords like Ryswell and Manderly will circle your son like vultures around prey and will push their daughters and granddaughters onto you."

"Like the prince will marry any of them, since their lords failed to support their rightful king and allowed the Boltons and Freys to tread on our northern rights." Harald sneered.

"Those other lords, my sons will be punished by the king in due time. We shall reap the benefits of such a grand opportunity in front of us. Wouldn't Lord Rickard be proud to finally have his daughter married off to a suitable husband."

Prince Jacob and King Stannis both saw that Arthor did not speak much, after his father hit him with his cane. The man, who brought his young sons south with the rest of the Karstarks was more fool than a man, with his arms folded and did what his father commanded of him, and kept his mouth shut. At the back of Jacob's mind, it seemed that Arthor's outburst told more than what he had heard, was he about to speak on something his father and brother did not want the prince and his father to hear about on the table.

The supper was not great, but it was better than what the soldiers and men outside of the watchtower were having to eat. The prince placed a hand under his chin and leaned his arm on the table. He was bored and wanted this meeting to be over. Jacob was careful to not have his father see his heir clearly tired of the talk between men and dismiss the Karstark lords from the tower. He was not looking forward to marrying Alys, all because this war was the last bastion of freedom he had as a man, before the Baratheon man had to be tied down to a northerner, who did not know him.

The prince caught Harald slipping in another cup of wine, in no doubt also bored of the proceedings and would drink the entire wine stores if he could. As older men, the prince assumed the sons of Arnolf had fought in his uncle's rebellion and had seen real war, where men died, and the stakes were high. It was a fleeting thought that passed through the prince's mind, trying to distract himself from listening to the talks of dowry and the location of the wedding ceremony.

"As a man of the north, my lord. Where is the Turncloak? I heard from one of your grandsons that Bolton's bastard has been flaying him for two years and a half. It's strange how Roose Bolton allows his bastard to have the same privileges as a trueborn son and to practicing something that has been illegal for centuries, as equal to first rights, which is also illegal." The prince said, in a hardened tone.

The prince saw the eyes of Lord Arnolf and his sons widen at the thought of Roose Bolton and his bastard, may be such proud lords were afraid of a man, whose house is known for extreme torture and using knives to peal the skins of their victims. All the north was afraid and did not have the right motivation to rebel against the Bolton usurpers. It was sad to see such proud people be subjugated by cutthroats, who only got their position of power because of the Lannisters and the Red Wedding.

Jacob did not trust the Karstarks in front of them. One of them was too fidgety for his liking, and was the one, who could expose his family in front of the king. Lord Arnolf was trying too hard to impress him, but it seems the prince's father was not as convinced by the aging lord's sentiments. He knew his father was only entertaining them because they were the only house in the north, whom have declared for him openly, whilst other and more wealthier houses cowed behind their castle walls.

"You are a smart man, Prince Jacob. We never expected talks of such a man to come at the table, are we not discussing how to unite our houses together and, not talking about the ironborn turncloak." Lord Arnolf said, in a grating tone. The old man was beginning to get agitated, by the raising of his eyebrow, and how tight he held onto his cane.

"My son is normally intrusive, it's a quality I value in him. If you cannot deal with such a man, then it seems your house will not be marrying into mine at all. Unlike most men, my son is valued and my most important counsellor on my side." King Stannis replied.

"It's good you value your son, Your Grace. Family is highly valued in our house, and we would be honoured to welcome the prince into our family." Harald said, in a more gleeful tone.

"My lords, you are all too kind. It's not every day, high lords show appreciation towards me. Most are afraid of me because of my appearance or how I serve my father loyally and cannot be corrupted like others." Prince Jacob exclaimed.

"It is settled, my lords. Do you and your sons agree to have two ceremonies that honour both the Old Gods and the Seven? I know the southerners of my forces and my good family will be uncomfortable with the idea of my only son marrying in the eyes of the old gods, when he was born in the light of the Seven." The king said, in a grim tone.

"The two ceremonies would be a great way to reunite both faiths together. I'm sure your lady wife, the Queen will be pleased to see what we have to offer to both bride and groom. We are glad you considered our house to marry your son into, because we know Lord Manderly was itching to come to the table first, but his granddaughters are marrying two stunted Freys." Lord Arnolf said, sniggering at the last thing he said.

"You have mistaken me for someone else, my lord. I am not a forgiving man, but I do reward loyal allies for their service to the rightful king. The wedding will take place days after the men have recovered from battle and when the traitor lords have been punished for their treachery."

"I'm pleased to know we have come to a fair arrangement that benefits both sides respectfully, I apologise for the less than behaviour shown by my sons. I expected nothing less from a fool and a drunkard, when their eldest brother is in Karhold protecting his cousin."

The prince thanked the Father, the discussions were over. He did not have to sit in front of these men any longer than he needed to. Jacob was not happy with the idea of being linked to these cretans as good family, but he knew he had to be ready to take on the new challenges of being someone's lord husband, and that day was coming soon. It was strange, the idea of not being an unattached man was going to be a reality and he was going to be responsible for trying to make his wife happy, as opposed to the other Baratheon marriages that have failed in his lifetime.

He did not want his marriage to Alys to be unloving like his parents or poison like his uncle and Cersei, maybe Jacob could break the cycle of three unhappy or short-term marriages in the same generation, and House Baratheon will have a chance of surviving beyond the battle in Winterfell.

* * *

The snows outside of the watchtower did not get better by the day. Prince Jacob needed to get away from the snivelling Karstark lords. He wanted them gone, but his father Stannis needed Lord Arnolf's support against the Boltons and Freys in the war. The prince had to act the good southron boy and be polite to these bootlickers, but they offered him Lord Rickard's daughter to wed and bed. He knew the old lord had something to hide, because he hit his middle child Arthor with his cane for talking too much. There was a larger plot that Jacob wanted to discover, but he needed a rest from using his head and wanted to be just a man for the rest of the day.

He was deeply angered by Luthor's decision to go drinking with the King's Men, and not spend time with him. Jacob had not thought of the consequences of his cousin running away from home would have on the members of House Estermont. The lord and his family would be severely punished by the Lannisters for Luthor joining the prince and his father against the Boltons. Jacob did not give two shits about his grandmother's maiden house. They were traitors, who abandoned his father in the war and supported Renly, when they should have supported their rightful king from the beginning.

Jacob did not care if his great-grandfather Lord Gerold had died before the Blackwater. It was the feeble old man, who threw all the Estermont strength behind Renly. It was difficult to decipher all his family members when the war went on. He only had his father Stannis, his mother Selyse and little sister Shireen to think of. The others did not matter because they were all oathbreakers and traitors in the eyes of the law of Westeros and the laws of family as well.

The white cold did not deter Jacob from navigating it. It was just another challenge to him, as everything else was. He spent the days after training in his swordplay and was building muscle strength by going out to get more firewood for himself and his father in the watchtower. Carrying all those big logs would be hard for an ordinary man, but Jacob was born to be strong as a Baratheon should be. Being alone gave the prince some time to process everything; the thought of becoming a northwoman's husband and becoming the man he was meant to be for his family and his house.

" _ **I only met Alys Karstark once, it was at a gathering in Winterfell years ago. I was only a year into my northern stay, but it was a punishment. Seeing the other northern lords and ladies enter the gates of Winterfell for celebrations or talks of how to strengthen their region made staying there less of a prison and more of a home to me."**_

The prince knew the Starks and Karstarks were intertwined as blood ties go. Alys looked the winter's lady compared to Desmera, who looked the summer maiden. He put all thoughts of his first love behind him, when the war began. Jacob was a man of nine and ten and did not need to think about a silly girl from his past anymore. He was to be married and had to focus his attention on making his own marriage better than the other men of his house. He did not want to repeat the destructive cycle of poisonous or unhappy Baratheon marriages he had seen growing up.

Jacob kicked the slog of snow under his heavy brown boots. As a southern boy, the snow amazed him, as he always wanted to see it as a little boy growing up in Highgarden. He never had the opportunity to grow up the way he should have. To be a big brother to Shireen, to comfort his mother through the miscarriages and to even train in swordplay with his own father. The man had been forced to grow up in the households of other people, whether it was Highgarden or Winterfell; he had learnt a lot during his times away from home and would not change his lessons learnt for the world.

" _ **I learnt most of the lessons I had were in Highgarden or in Horn Hill. As a boy, I thought Randyll Tarly had assumed the role of my father; he was more invested in my future as a warrior than my own father had been. He trained me alongside his own son Dickon in swordplay and archery, but I had progressed better than the proud lord's two sons. There were times I thought Randyll wished I was his son, so he would not put up with Samwell's disappointments and failure to meet his lord father's expectations of being a man by his rigid standards."**_

Meeting Samwell again at the Wall was bittersweet to Jacob. The Night's Watchman saw the man, his father measured him up to and someone, who was his kin through House Florent. It had been better this way, and Sam would have companionship in Jon, who was also an outcast in his family and the two found kinship in a place where their societal flaws did not matter. He missed the comradery at the Wall and how the black brothers supported each other no matter what. It was better than how Jacob was not allowed companionship in his own highborn circles because of the dreaded game of thrones, and how that game has damaged the way boys and girls in noble circles interacted with each other.

The prince's eye caught on someone standing a few feet away from the longhall. The closer he got to the place, the clearer it got for him. He was surprised to see Asha Greyjoy there, alone and without the She-Bear guarding her or Ser Justin hovering around her. It was the first time he had seen her alone, since he initially captured her after her surrender in Deepwood Motte, but her injured leg in battle made beating her a lot easier for him. She was unlike any other woman Jacob had met, maybe it was because she was ironborn and did not care or she knew she was alone in the world without any allies or family members to help her.

Of all the things Asha told him, Jacob did not believe at first. Her uncle Euron forced her to marry some old ironborn reaver and that made her less of a threat to her uncle being the ruler of the Iron Islands. He had some pity for her, to have her birthright taken away from her by an exiled uncle, who won the hearts and minds of the ironborn reavers, who wanted to spread more violence and terror, throughout the Seven Kingdoms, and this time the richer lands of the Reach and the Westerlands were the main targets of Euron's reeving campaign. Jacob understood Sorrell's thirst for ironborn blood because of the madman terrorising the Shield Islands and his sworn shield having guilt of not being able to help his family members trapped in the Reach.

At first, Jacob looked at Asha as nothing more than Ironborn scum, who deserved to spend the rest of her life in Winterfell's dungeons. She had to answer for the crimes of those pirates and rapers she called people, and for the crimes of what Theon had done to Winterfell. As the days went on, he saw Asha had resided herself to accepting the consequences of her crimes and the crimes of what her people had done in the North. It was like she had lost every bit of strength she had, since becoming his father's prized hostage.

The prince sniffed the air for the scent of cooking meat, as it was mostly from the horses that expired on their journey south. Jacob was no lover of horsemeat, but it was what the men in the longhall had to eat to keep themselves alive and to survive another day. It was difficult having to eat the food brought over by the Karstarks, but he requested the cooks of the Follard retinue to cook his food for him because he was convinced Lord Arnolf and his sons were plotting to poison him at the dinner table.

A gust of chilling winds blew past him. The heavy blizzard had lessened, but the storm continued. It seems the great sacrifice the Queen's Men had done made no difference to the weather, nor did it grant R'hllor's most faithful anything. Seeing the flesh-eaters be burned alive made Jacob more aware of how desperate men can be to survive, and how it was easy for them to turn cruel for the sake of survival. The prince sported a ponytail to tie up his growing hair. He missed having long hair, as it made him feel like a man, and having it cut short made him feel like he lost something of himself.

The prince trekked past where the makeshift stables were to keep the horses, whom were still alive and did not perish in the storm. Jacob was lucky to have his horse Misty kept in a warm stable, and to be fed with the nourishment brought from the Karstarks. He may not like those men, but they brought horse feed and was grateful for the soldiers they brought from Karhold. His horse was a well-bred southern horse bought by Uncle Robert from a great horse breeder in the Westerlands, and the breeder also got rich from selling and breeding strong horses for Tywin Lannister and his most important of war captains and bannermen in the West.

For Jacob, old memories of fonder times were uncomfortable because most of the people, in his memories were either the enemy or have died, since the war began. It was saddening to have the future of an entire house on his shoulders, but Jacob had no choice. He was his father's only son and was the heir apparent to King Robert Baratheon, even though the late king was only his uncle. He missed his favourite uncle and felt guilty for not being there when his uncle needed him to serve him at court and even teach Ned Stark to be less honourable when playing the game of thrones.

"They should call you, the wandering prince, as it's what you like to do all day." A voice said, in a haughty tone. Jacob turned around for it to be Asha Greyjoy. Even as a hostage, she still exuded a kind of charm that would have any man begging at her feet or wanting to bed her.

"I'm bored, what am I supposed to do. Have tea with grubby old Karstark men." The prince replied.

"Are you always in a foul mood, my sweet green prince? It's that greenlander charm you lack."

"I don't know what you are offering, but I'm not taking it."

"Most men would take what I have to offer, but you are different. A greenlander that is not tempted at the sight of a woman."

"Like I said before, Greyjoy. I'm a different man, an enigma amongst my own kind I guess."

"I hope your father doesn't throw me in Winterfell's cold dungeons too long. I'd like to see you in some fancy court cloths, when you marry the northern girl forced on you, by your father."

"Aren't you married yourself, my lady."

"It was a false marriage, an obstacle to keep me away from the Seastone Chair, which is mine by rights. The man is old enough to be the same age as an ironborn grandfather."

"Did you like the display the Queen's Men showed? You were lucky to be highborn, to be spared of such punishment from those red fanatics."

"Yet, they serve you and your father. You don't worship their red god or swear fealty to their red queen in return for their devotion of burning men alive."

Prince Jacob growled under his breath. He did not take insults towards his mother lightly, especially when it came to Ironborn filth like Asha. He was not blind to the influence Melisandre had on the men fighting for his father, since she arrived on Dragonstone years ago. The prince was not aware of how the Queen's Men had believed the Red Woman to be the queen they named themselves after, and not the rightful queen married to his father and the mother of his two children. He heard the rumours on the Wall, how even though Melisandre did not wear a crown, many men believed her to be his father's true queen, being the only woman, his father listened to and not dismiss from his side, unlike he had to his mother.

"Watch yourself, Greyjoy? Speak of such things again, you will be seeing the end of my sword soon enough." The prince said, in a threatening tone.

"I did not mean to upset you, green prince. I see you are sensitive about the red priestess, Ser Justin has told me about. Has she replaced your mother at your father's side or is she some common witch brought from the east?"

Prince Jacob grabbed Asha by her upper arm and did not let go. He was close to strangling her, but she was to be kept alive for his father and was going to keep his word. "I warned you once. Speak of business that is not yours again, and you will have to deal with me making the rest of your time as a hostage very hard, and Ser Justin will not be able to save you this time." The prince gritted between his teeth.

"You have a strong grip, it seems our last duel has inspired you. Getting yourself strong to face the Boltons and Freys. I have my own grip with Lord Bolton. His bastard has been flaying my brother, and I don't know whether he is dead or alive."

The man had released his grip on the Ironborn woman. He took a deep breath and looked at Asha, in a more neutral way. He saw someone as broken as jaded as he was from the war. The difference was that Jacob did not enjoy having to kill people in the war, and Asha revelled in conquering the North in the name of her father Balon Greyjoy, who was dead now.

"Why should I care? As far as I'm concerned Theon deserves his flaying for what he has done to Winterfell and murdering the Stark boys. Your brother is a turncloak and a child killer, how does it feel to be the sister of such a creature?"

Jacob glimpsed Asha's trembling lip, and stern face. He touched a nerve, and it served her right for talking about things that did not concern her. His family may be flawed, but at least he did not have a sibling that was a turncloak and murdered two highborn children. It was just like the times the two of them would antagonise each other, by using each other's families to insult one another. As the days went by, those insults got old and served nothing, but get the both angry with each other, because of their common attachment to their flawed families.

He knew the Greyjoy woman missed her brother, as Theon was her last living sibling, since the two older brothers were killed in the Greyjoy Rebellion. Jacob missed his sister too, but he knew Shireen would be okay with mother and many of the Queen's Men protecting her. He did not care if he crossed the line because she crossed the line also. The prince knew using Theon to poke at Asha was the easiest way to antagonise her.

"I'm not proud of what Theon has done. I tried to warn him of his actions and the consequences of it, but he did not listen. He was eager to prove himself to a father, who thought the greenlands made him too soft to be truly ironborn." Asha said, gritted between her teeth.

"No matter what he is; he is still your brother and you have to bear the consequences of his crimes, and the crimes of your people. Be fortunate you are not dead." Prince Jacob replied.

"I'd rather be dead than be treated like a wounded animal." Asha declared.

"What happened, Greyjoy? Did your Drowned God desert you in your time of need? Or did you forgo religion all together."

"Pox to all of them."

The prince chuckled at Asha's sentiment, as it came from someone who never believed in any faith whatsoever. She was not bad for a Greyjoy, which was telling because the rest of her family members were nothing, but rapers and reavers. He saw at the nightfire that she was not impressed by the show the Queen's Men put on, it was almost as if she was afraid of being thrown into the flames by Ser Godry and his men. As Balon Greyjoy's daughter, the woman did have king's blood, but a false king's blood nonetheless.

"What is your relations with Ser Justin? I'm curious to know why one of the more cowardly of the Queen's Men has chosen you to socialise with." Prince Jacob asked, with his arms folded.

"The man was courteous towards me, unlike you, green _princeling_. He gave me good food and good company away from the She-Bear."

"You know better than I that Ser Justin, like many of the men around here are ambitious. Most of them have lost their holdings and their lands because of siding with my father in the war, even the lands of House Florent were given away to Tyrells, when it belonged to the Tarlys by rights."

"The Iron Islands is nothing to be clamouring for, as long as Euron lives and is king. No other lord can marry me, as long as I am shackled to the husband the Crow's Eye forced upon me."

"What about a lord with a high station, like me?"

"Unless you want to fight Euron and die for it."

"I killed many men before, and I'm looking to add the Bastard of Bolton onto my slow but growing list of men I killed, along with Lord Whitehill and all his sons."

"Why? What have those poxy northmen done to occur your wrath?"

"Lord Ludd and his sons ran away before I could kill them. Their castle and all their lands now belong to my father and their rivals, the Forresters, as reparations for what their enemies have done, since the Red Wedding."

"Would you allow the Queen's Men to burn me? No matter how much you dislike me?"

"No, because I have a duty to keep you alive and to make sure you make it Winterfell unscathed. It is not a promise, but it is something I'm willing to do, even if the Queen's Men have to stomach not having you as fodder for their blood ritual."

The prince's stomach began to stir. It was as if he enjoyed Asha's company and had more to talk about than igniting her temper. He realised he and the Greyjoy woman were not so different from each other, but both were cut from the same cloth. Jacob smiled, knowing Asha would see it, to see the greenland prince break the stone cold look on his face for once and see the human side of him. The two of them were thrown in the middle of this northern war and had a common enemy behind the walls of Winterfell.


	14. The Lord Of The Storm

**A/N: I finally got this chapter done. I think each chapter will be longer than the last, as this one is vital and has a cliffhanger ending.**

* * *

 **Chapter Fourteen – The Lord of the Storm:**

The prince swung his blade to counter the attack from behind, with the sword of his opponent almost knocking him down. He looked to see Sorrell huffing out of breath again, even though the man was a sharper swordsman than his cousin Luthor. Jacob needed this time, to retain and to get his skill sharpened again. He was going to be on the frontline, when the war with the Boltons and Freys comes to ahead in Winterfell, and he will need to be at his best and full strength to win so he could and stay alive.

Through the battles in this long war, Jacob has grown up and not compromised anything that could cost him his life on the field. He had grown from the arrogant boy, who wanted to go to war to kill Lannisters to a self-assured man, ready to do anything to reclaim the north from the cutthroats, who rule it now. The prince kept banging away with his sword against Sorrell's, as the knight made a good sparring partner and was someone, who would be willing to challenge him, unlike his scared cousin.

" _ **Luthor is too much of a chicken to fight me; he is afraid father will punish him for injuring me by accident. He was an important member of the King's Men and spent most of his time with them through the last seven days. He was home with them, as they worshipped the seven like him."**_

The sword of Sorrell was flung across the snows, and Sorrell heeled in defeat. Not when the knight then pulled out of knife from under his jerkin, and the prince kicked it out of his hand. Sorrell didn't mean to have the knife out, but it was an example of the trickery the Freys and Boltons might pull on the battlefield and have the prince's guard down to kill him. Jacob knew the price of making a mistake, and a small mistake like that could cost him his life and the lives of the soldiers fighting with him.

The knight stood to his feet and brushed off the snow from his clothes. Sorrell's hand didn't look to be too sore from the prince's heavy boot kick. He was chuffed, at the thought of the snowstorm continuing, even though Jacob lost track of time, since the remainants of his father Stannis's army left Deepwood Motte. The storm kept on raging ,and he knew Roose Bolton was too comfortable warming himself in Winterfell's hearth and fires that did not belong to him or his demented house.

He was more distant with his father, since the Karstark forces came to the encampment. All he dealt with was the blatant arse kissing from the grandsons of Arnolf, whom all three of them were the sons of Arthor, the foolish of the Karstark men. They were despicable and entitled little boys, who needed to have their mouths sewn shut by needlepoint. He knows he will count down the days, where he will be miserable being Alys Karstark's husband and having to be lord over these insignificant northmen and their ilk.

"You could have broken my left hand, my prince," Sorrell said, in a neutral tone of voice. He didn't seem angry at what the prince had done. "My sword hand would still be intact."

"I can't afford to be reckless, not this late in the game." Prince Jacob replied.

"Your training has improved, since we started sparring together."

"I needed to do something with myself and sitting in a warm tent wasn't going to do anything for me in the meantime."

"Must you be reminded of your duty to the Karstark girl, you are meant to marry days after the battle or are you too busy conversing with the Greyjoy woman to notice." The knight said, with bitterness in his tone.

"Whom I talk to is none of your business?"

"I'm only looking out for your best interests, Your Grace. The Greyjoy woman has something foul about her."

"All Greyjoys are foul, Ser Grimm. It's who they are and who they destined to be. Pirates and rapers and nothing more."

"What would keeping her with us do for us?"

"It's only for show, for my father to present a token to the lords of the north. Here, he would say, throwing the Greyjoy woman in chains in front of their feet. All that to gain another army to fight for the throne again."

"Do you want to continue this war?"

"I want it to be over, Sorrell. I'm tired of fighting to be honest, but this war determines the future of our house whether I like it or not."

"The Karstark men are not too pleasant to look at either, do you truly want to play lord over them."

"I have no choice. Alys Karstark will be my wife and my mother, the queen and the other Florents will have to adjust to it."

"I am very sorry for you, my prince. It is clear on your face, you do not want to marry this girl. Your father is desperate for this alliance to work out, but the Manderly one proves more fruitful for us."

The prince never thought Sorrell, a King's Man would be on his side, in terms of the difference in the northern alliances on offer. He must be as Jacob's sworn shield and someone, he gave a purpose to, as he would have resided to fixing ships in Oldtown had the two not met each other. He sensed something crawling down his spine when he thought of his bleak future as a member of the Karstark household. It would not be so bad, had Lord Rickard and his sons had not died in the war.

The Karstark men were terrible and were not making a lasting good impression on the prince, but they were able to fool the king this long with their false niceties. Jacob hated looking in the eyes of Arnolf, as it reminded him of the all the times, the Septon in Horn Hill would discipline him for small things he considered a sin, like looking at noble girls from House Ashford or even having flaws, such as jealousy and anger creeping on the forefront of his mind when Jacob fell short of something Garlan Tyrell did with ease and he was a second son of the patriarch, who benefitted more from the Lannisters downfall than being allies with them.

"It does not matter now, Sorrell. As my sworn shield, your loyalty will extend towards my future wife and she will need your sword against her great uncle and hideous cousins." Prince Jacob said, in a dull tone.

"Killing them would be considered a pleasure, my prince." Sorrell said, with a smile on his face. He was sharpening his blade with a whetstone given to him by Luthor.

"Only if I have seen them acting disloyally and playing my father for a fool. My father will believe his only son and heir over these arse lickers."

"Why do you think they are here?"

"They are desperate. With Lord Rickard and his sons dead; they want to get rid of Alys the only way they could. By selling her to me and my father for an alliance and then taking her birthright of Karhold and the lands surrounding it away."

"The king will not listen to a common knight like me, but you he will believe if you see anything."

"You do not know my father like I do, ser. He is a stubborn animal, who does not listen to reason when it comes from someone else."

"What if his life was in danger?"

"The only time he will actually listen to someone other than his obeying knights."

"The Karstark men need to be watched. I do not trust their intentions, as they may seem good on the outside, but they will want to take advantage of our weaknesses."

"You may be right, ser, but I do not know yet. I have to investigate further on."

The prince does not know what to think. He needed to see what the Karstarks were really doing and if the marriage alliance was a guise for something else they were planning. They could have gone over to the Boltons and submit to their rule and they would be safe in Karhold, but they defied Roose Bolton and all his authority and joined the prince and his father in the war against him and his Frey good family. Prince Jacob was glad to have Sorrell around, even though he was only a sworn shield. His opinions mattered to Jacob more than the opinions of the high lords around him, all because the man was honest and did not bite his tongue around him. Jacob cherished what alliance he had with his sworn shield, but did not want to consider him a friend. As he was afraid of growing to attached to him and being too trusting, which was what led to the betrayal of his great uncle Alester.

Jacob shook his head at the thought. He did not need friends but needed good allies who made good on their promises on their deals. The man was never away from his father this long, but it was a good thing as it was helping to develop his leadership skills and how to hone them when he is alone and without his father's guidance. He was a man of eight and ten, but he still has the thoughts of the boy of five and ten, who valiantly joined his father in fighting the Lannisters and his own uncle Renly.

" _ **Why am I thinking these things? The battle is about to happen, and I should be ready to remove the head of Bolton's bastard and let the snows be painted with his blood. It should be justice enough for the things he had done to the northerners."**_

The snows did not let up, with the prince and Sorrell retiring to Jacob's tent, which had the sigil of the black stag on a golden field, the original Baratheon sigil before the war between brothers began years ago. He never took the new sigil his father had taken, due to his association with Melisandre, as it presented a bad omen and a warning from the Seven. As a loyal worshipper, Jacob kept to the Seven, even though he still questioned his faith from time to time. He knew his gods needed him in the battle against the red god, who sought to set the Seven Kingdoms alight through blood and destruction.

The prince listened to the Karstark men talking to occupy his time, most of the conversation was about the turncloak Theon Greyjoy and how he was not at the Dreadfort anymore, but inside the walls of Winterfell and was a sorry sight to see. Jacob did not want to think what his old enemy would look like, after the Bastard of Bolton was done with him. He heard the legendary tales of the torture chambers and the flaying knives the members of House Bolton used through the centuries for their own sick pleasure, until the Stark in Winterfell put them down, like the dogs they were. As a boy sentenced to Winterfell for his punishment, listening to stories and such things from Jon, Robb and Theon were the norm to him, even though stories like that were abhorrent in the south and people there like to soften the horror stories to make themselves seem superior to each other.

The man liked sitting on his own created seat, as it made him feel powerful, as his father, but he knew how to retain such power, unlike his father who always threw away valuable alliances all because of his morals and hard sense of justice to the law. Jacob sensed he may not know his father as well as he thought he did. The distance did them some good, but they were better together than not, as a united family. He did not understand why his sense of morality was rattled suddenly, all for an ironborn woman sentenced to imprisonment for life. Asha did not fit the qualities Jacob liked about women, she was brash, proud scum of the Iron Islands and never had her convoluted sense of mind challenged, until their last meeting. He hated to admit he liked having the ironborn around to make things interesting, stopping the King's Men and Queen's Men from opening each other's throats bored him, and Jacob was a Baratheon and craved excitement in an otherwise boring war camp.

* * *

The tent opened to reveal just the woman he was thinking off. Asha's legs may not have been shackled anymore, but she was still trapped in this war camp, as much as Jacob was. The difference was that she always had an armed escort with her, whether it was Ser Justin or Lady Alysane with her. The two sods were lucky to be in her company all the time, she was not bad to talk to and could keep up with Jacob, unlike the Tyrells he had grown up with Highgarden. Underneath the pirate bravado laid someone as wanton as he used to be, before good old Ned Stark decided to train that wildness out of him. Asha liked what she liked, and that was what stayed with Jacob in his memory. He had nothing to offer her but his cock, but as an unmarried man, he knew what she could be after and may be she fancied herself with a southorn crown on her head.

The prince raised his hand to dismiss his sworn shield, he saw the agitated look on Sorrell's face. He could not believe Jacob was asking him to leave him alone with a woman, who would rather kill him than make any kind of peace with him, as long as he was the son of the man, who ordered her imprisonment. The knight left the tent in haste, which widened Jacob's eyes. He did not want Sorrell to feel like he did not matter, but the knight was important to him in the grand scheme of things. Sorrell used his sword to defend Jacob, and openly talked about his dislike for King Stannis in front of his son. The man integrated himself into Jacob's life not by fate, but by happenstance when they met each other on the ports of Oldtown. It made Jacob remember, he was dumped further south by soldiers of House Rowan, but he never really had a problem with that house, knowing he was close to marrying Mathis Rowan's daughter, had the rumours of her being soiled not reached his father's ears. It was years ago, and when the Seven Kingdoms was somewhat at peace.

Prince Jacob was empty inside. He felt nothing when Sorrell left, but he was alone with the woman, who may not end up being his best friend, but could be a useful ally when the time came to kill Roose Bolton and his bastard Ramsay on the field of battle. The man rubbed the side of his forehead, not to show any ounce of weakness or the dishonourable Greyjoy will use it against him. He was tired, and he did not want to admit it, of the war, the politics of marriage and everything else. He wanted it to be over with the snap of his fingers and everything will be good, but life did not work out that way, and it was a lesson his father taught him.

"Is there something I can do for you, Greyjoy?" The prince said, in a biting tone. He was in the mood to talk, especially to someone who made him question what he knew over the last month.

"There is plenty you can do for me, sweet green prince." Asha replied, in a haughtiness in her tone.

"I warned you not to call me that before."

"What's wrong? Don't like being called sweet at all, it's better than being your usual unpleasant self?"

"Better than being compared to the likes of men, whom I despise."

"You have a lot of anger in your heart, greenlander."

"As false as your marriage may be, you are still married, and I do not philander with married women. I have my principles."

"The man is old enough to be my great-grandfather. Pity he does not have the coin to bargain for my release, but staying with you might make things much more interesting." The ironborn captain said, placing a hand on his shoulder in a ginger manner. The prince's eyes widened, not used to the touch of a woman for years, since he left Highgarden.

"I'm not buying what you are selling to me, Greyjoy." The man said, pushing the Greyjoy's hand away from him.

"You are the only greenlander to reject me, other than your father. Thought about seducing him before I knew he was married to your mother. You might have to do, an unmarried greenlander in the middle of a war." Asha winked her eye at the prince.

"That's repulsive, how do you sleep at night, my lady."

"I sleep, quite comfortably under the extra furs provided by my champion Ser Justin."

"You are just as jaded as I am. We are not so different from each other, the only thing that separates us is our families and our sigils."

"None of our families have a future if we don't survive this war." Asha said, not in her usual bravado, but as a genuine person considered about the survival of her house when she is it's remaining heir.

The prince never knew Asha had that side of her, maybe it was only reserved for those closest to her. He envied those men languishing in the dungeons of Deepwood Motte, but especially the two men he captured, who were apparently her lovers and shared their affections for her between them. Sad men, but as ironborn men, those two were fortunate to have been in the service of Balon Greyjoy's last heir and to have shared her bed as well. Why did his mind have to go there? Was his mind full of filth and deviance that he could not stop thinking these things about a woman, who he had no intention of being allies with, unless it was on his terms and he controlled the circumstances of such a union between them. The man was good at pretending to be a chaste boy, when he was just as vulgar as his womanising uncle, but the difference was Jacob was able to hide his wild nature more than his uncle did with his public displays and did not bother hiding his whores, even when married to the daughter of the most powerful man in the Seven Kingdoms.

"Isn't Ser Justin supposed to watch you, he will get a tongue lashing from my father, knowing he lost you again, under his supervision." Prince Jacob said, in a sombre tone.

"I have little of my freedom, I use it to my advantage. I am not shackled as I was anymore. Smile, greenlander. Your enemies will be dead shortly." Asha replied.

"Not the enemies in Winterfell I worry about, my lady, but the enemies closest to home I concern myself with."

"I'm a killer of sorts, and I will do such for you."

"I'm not the idiot Robb Stark was, and no way will I ever accept any help from the likes of you. Keep your hands to yourself or else you will not have hands."

"Are you threatening me, greenlander?"

"I threatened lesser men, and you are no man as you pretend to be one."

Jacob did not understand, when Asha chuckled at his sentiment. He was confused, but did not get why she was not seething with anger with his direct threat. He knew she tried to fling herself onto him, as the only available man she could stand to look at. The prince was not swayed to what she was offering to him, to kill his enemies with the swing of her axe and he liked the idea. An idea he would take to bed with him later tonight and mull over it. The ironborn woman had a big, sharp nose, as he always noticed and strangely, he found it attractive on her, but it was something he would never admit to anyone, especially the overly critical Sorrell and the fool Luthor and it was a secret he wanted to keep to himself. All princes and kings had secrets, so why could not Jacob have some of his own, to occupy his time away from his father Stannis.

"Your father said something of a sort to me long ago." Asha said.

"You should listen carefully; my father is not a man to be trifled with and I know the consequences of those who try to." Jacob replied, in a stern tone.

"Are you truly made of the same stone as your father or something more?"

"You may know or not know, as it said before, my lady. I am an enigma amongst my own kind."

"I offer to kill your enemies, and a blank answer is what you give me."

"I never said yes or not, maybe you still might have a chance with me."

"More of your pretty southorn lies or are you considering my offer?"

"You will have to work it out for yourself." The prince said, with a triumphant smile on his face. His great aunt Melara always said his wide smile brought out the best of his Baratheon features. It made him look attractive to the southern girls of the Reach, as he remembered his great-aunt saying.

The prince knew at the back of his mind, what he was doing was wrong. Conversing with one enemy, whilst thinking about ways to kill the others, who were circling his father like crows. As someone branded a rebel by all of Westeros, he lived up to the rebel title given to him. Asha sticking around mattered to him, even though he was never going to ally with her, but things were exciting with someone to challenge everything he believed to be true in his life to think a whole new way of being. He learned more from being in the war camp with Greyjoy than he did at Castle Black stuck with his father, the King.

* * *

The prince and his sworn shield were trekking through the trenches of snow, which landed on their boots and the snowflakes almost covering their dark coloured furs from the storm blowing in this direction. Jacob was needed by his father, as it was heard someone important arrived in the crofter's village and he was called to be there. He would be foolish to ignore any vital summons from his father, even though the two never saw eye to eye on the same problems, but if there was someone of importance, who was useful for their cause in the north, then there is no harm in meeting this person and even sharing bread and wine with them.

He hated the thought of the Greyjoy woman getting to him, as it was a weakness to admit it himself. Jacob was his father's son and she was a prized hostage. He did not like the nagging tone of Sorrell circling his mind of how conversing with Asha was wrong, but it was none of the knight's business whatsoever and he can talk to whomever he wanted to. The sworn shield should know his place, before offering his useless criticism on such matters. Jacob was a man grown and he could make his own choices, for better or worse. It was his badge of dishonour to wear and he was happy to. He had enough of the vain notions of honour, all because men like his father Stannis and Ned Stark abided by them so much. He was not perfect and made his own fair share of mistakes, which cost him dearly as a boy of four and ten, but it was something his father effused to acknowledge about him, being his only son and heir.

There was commotion in the war camp, as it was to be expected. As everyone was on constant alert because the closeness of the village to Winterfell. It reminded him of the watchtower's view of the seat of House Stark from the distance. He hated looking it because the castle had been a prison for him, after the Reacher dispute years ago at first. A southern boy was not meant for a northern castle at the time and he hated the cold when he first arrived there. Taking a glimpse of the castle every night before bed became a regular thing for the prince to do, even though staying in Winterfell at the time had been a punishment, but he didn't regret having fonder memories of his time there as well.

The prince and the knight walked past the numerous flags of the smaller houses, whom joined his father in the war against the Boltons and Freys. It was a thing to see northern unity amongst those, who wanted to bathe in the blood of Boltons. He ignored Sorrell on their journey to the watchtower, as there was nothing to be said between the two men. Jacob knew Sorrell was someone, who would tell him the harsh truth, even though he did not like to hear it. He was a man, who was starting to enjoy the freedoms of making his own choices, even though most of his choices were not the best in terms of leading by example, as the prince.

"The Umber men are acting strange, my prince. What do you think it is?" Ser Sorrell asked.

"I don't know, but northerners have their way of doing things," Prince Jacob replied. "It's best not to get in their way."

"You are putting your future in jeopardy, all for ironborn scum condemned by your father."

"What do you mean by it?" Jacob asked, in a raised voice.

"I notice the way you have changed, since she became your father's prize and you dismissed me when she is around."

"You are my sworn shield, not Davos. As I remind you of your place, ser."

"Your future is not to be a womaniser like your uncle."

"Do not speak to me, as if you are my father or Davos for that matter."

The man stiffened, when Sorrell made light of Uncle Robert's womanising. Jacob knew about it, since he was a child, and even used it against his uncle when he dared to judge him for being young and in love with Desmera. Talking with Asha did not make him alike to his uncle, as the prince did not enjoy the company of anyone looking to bed him at all. He was a patient man and wanted to keep it that way, until his wedding night to the Karstark girl. The fostering in Highgarden taught Jacob lessons he would not have learned in the Vale or in the Stormlands; he learned about the pleasures of the bedchambers and the Tyrell girls were not shy of teaching him what women liked done to them. He may have less than honourable qualities about him, but all Jacob desired was to be the best husband he can be to Alys, better than the men of his house.

As the war came to a standstill, Jacob knew the shortage of brides affected him and his father, in terms of gaining alliances with other houses. His father claimed Alys was the best bride he could hope for, but it was the same thing he said about Sansa Stark years ago. It was not true, as his sire was a terrible liar. Jacob knew the best bride he could be offered came from House Manderly and his father knew it. Why go along with the Karstark alliance, when a better one was on offer? He did not understand his father Stannis's stubbornness in ignoring the better opportunities in front of him, just so he could prove his way was the right way.

The prince and his sworn shield climbed the steps to get to the watchtower, as it was made of great stone bricks and this place lasted if it did. He was excited, to meet this mystery guest his father wanted him to be around for and he was happy to be host to anyone, who could help support his father in the war effort. Jacob would gladly say goodbye to the watchtower soon, as he was sick of it and its monotony and greyness. It almost made him believe the maiden trapped in tower stories might be true. The sworn knight opened the hard, stone door by the brass handle, and the two stepped inside the tower. The place was warmer than it was before he left. As the heat radiating from the flames heated the stone-cold walls around him. The prince was gladdened to be embraced by the warmth, rather than he suffocated by the storms of snow outside.

Sitting on the long table was his father, King Stannis sharing a goblet of wine with a man Jacob raised his eyebrow at. The man's fashion looked compatible to a mummer's show master, with his brimeless three-tiered hat in purple and eye-catching robes with a high stiff collar. He was tall and thin underneath the heavy clothes he wore. The stranger's eyes were dark, which made the prince aware if the man was a potential enemy to him and his father. His long beard was almost to his waist, which made the prince and the sworn knight insecure about their own facial hair on their respective faces. The prince had his arms folded, with his heavy furs on him causing discomfort, as the warmth of the hearth's fires were getting to him and his shield.

"I see you are entertaining our mystery guest already." Prince Jacob said, pulling up a chair for himself to sit on. As Sorrell closed the door of the tower behind him, standing by the prince's side as he should be.

"Is this your esteemed warrior son, Your Grace? It is a shame such a man is still unwed." The man asked, in a tone, which made Jacob mind his manners, when around this foreign stranger his father hosted.

"Father, who is this man?"

"This is Tycho Nestoris, an envoy of the Iron Bank of Braavos. You know of these men and their work, since you served Robert in administrative work long ago." King Stannis replied.

"The men, who collect the debts of the throne and give loans in hopes of a return investment on their parts."

"I was guided by men in the service of the Lady Sybelle Glover and released a few ironmen to help guide me through the storm. I have been searching for your father for some time."

"And you found him and what is it you are offering to my father and our cause?"

"The service of the Iron Bank and an opportunity to push your father, His Grace closer to the throne."

"As my most valuable counsellor, Jacob. You have a much of a part in this as I do." King Stannis said, in a strained tone.

"He must be dedicated to survive the worse snowstorm in the north and to still be alive in one piece."

"I had a pleasant stay in Castle Black, and kept company with your queen mother, Prince Jacob."

"What you are asking of my father is a lot, banker? To potentially pay the debts of Uncle Robert and those two blonde abominations on the throne."

"Your father will have the support of the Iron Bank, as long as there is a return investment in our mutual agreement."

"As long as he is sat on the Iron Throne. Did the Lannisters forget to pay their debts? For a house famous for paying their debts, they have done a poor job on paying the debts of illborn kings."

"I understand your reservations, no one can be trusted these days. I'm offering you and your father the greatest opportunity possible."

"My son needs time to consider such an offer on the table, as we will not walk into this deal blindly."

The prince noticed his father glaring at him, as it he was going to ruin the whole deal with the Iron Bank before it has been signed. He was bothered by the presence of the foreign banker, as it was within his rights to feel this way, Jacob trusted no one and played the game well because of it. He examined the banker closely and wondered if allowing him in was the best of ideas. The Iron Bank, unlike the wealthy northern lord had the means and the resources to help his father on his path to the throne. He looked at Sorrell, who stood at his side and did not want to ask his thoughts, whilst Nestoris was in the room with his father. Jacob did not like the fact this mummer's master man had the ironborn men he imprisoned released for coin. It was the soldiers of Asha Greyjoy he helped to defeat and put away in the dungeons of Deepwood Motte. Was Nestoris trying to undo the hard work Jacob did in the battle of the Wolfswood or was he trying to antagonise him with his wilful ignorance of everything?

Prince Jacob and his father had different views, but when it came their ambitions, they were one in the same. To depose the Lannisters and anyone, who stood at their side go down with them. If this man from Braavos was going to help them on their path to the Red Keep, then Jacob will have to trust his father's judgement about him. He knew being this far in the game and being alive was all due to awareness for his surroundings and his way of being critical of people. Jacob had one leg over the other, as he knew this meeting was no small talk, especially when the future of his and his father's successes in the war depended on the proper supporters with the financial backing for them to succeed further in the war.

"You said you kept company with my mother, the rightful queen." The prince said, wanting to know what the answer would be. He had not seen his mother, since he and his father left Eastwatch to go to the west of the mountains to ask the mountain clans for support in the war.

"She told me great deal about you. I see why she is so proud of you, the esteemed heir." The banker replied.

"Enough of the niceties, you are here because you want to offer a deal and to contribute significant coin to me." King Stannis said, in an iron tone.

"Of course, and I see you value your son enough for him to be involved in this meeting. I apologise, Prince Jacob. I did mistake you for one of the northmen around here. I did not realise you were the king's son, unless he told me so."

"You sought to undo the work I did imprisoning the ironborn rapers, you paid to be released. Those men were complicit in the invasion of northern lands. They deserved to rot in the dungeons for life."

"This is not the time for this." The king interrupted, not wanting Jacob to dwell on things from the battle of Deepwood Motte.

"Those men could have died in those storms, and still you will not be satisfied. A hard man to please, just like your father."

"When the battle comes, my son will stand by me as he has always done. It is what I expect of the men around me.

"I must not forget. The queen requested me to give something to the prince. It is right a mother misses her son, when he is so close to the battlefield." The Braavosi said, handing Prince Jacob two letters, to his hand.

The prince did not understand why Tycho Nestoris would do such a thing for him, even though it was a favour from his mother. Holding the letters between his fingertips made his fingers shake, Jacob had not seen his mother, before departing from Eastwatch. As a man grown, he still allowed for moments of weakness, only for those he loved and mainly his mother, Queen Selyse. He hated to remember her aching sobs when he left for the west of the north. It dawned on Jacob how much fighting in the war affected his mother, knowing how many noble ladies in Westeros have lost their sons in the war and some end up motherless because of the game of thrones. He held the letters in his hand, as they were visible reminders of his mother still caring and loving him from a distance. The man saw the letters scrawled in his mother's writing and he opened the first letter in his hand, and it had more than one page to it.

 _My son…._

 _I am writing to tell you how much I love, and I miss you. I am furious with your stubborn-minded father for allowing you to continue fighting in the north, but I understand why you need to fight. You feel you need to prove something to your father, but I know you will make a great leader to the men fighting for the futures of you and your sister for years to come. I was in the company of Tycho Nestoris of the Iron Bank, and we had great talks in Eastwatch, even though he was searching for you and your father, and in need of his counsel. This man is important to the future of you and your father's victories in the war, as the Iron Bank deposes those who do not pay their debts to them. I'm glad you ended whatever sordid friendship you had with the bastard lord commander, it's not right for a prince to socialise with those beneath him. It is great you have agreed with your father's command for you to marry the Karstark girl._

 _It breaks me to know, I will never see you get married, my only boy walking down the alter with his northern bride. It's unfortunate because I wanted a southorn bride for you to settle with when the war ended, I knew you were fond of the Rowan girl before she soiled herself. I hope to R'hllor you are still alive when you get these letters, your sister Shireen misses you more than she lets on. You should have stayed with me and your sister, as we are surrounded by savage wildlings and black brothers. You are a man and your place is on the battlefield with your father. Uncle Axell has been keeping the remaining Queen's Men in order in your father's absence and misses your keen sense of humour. I am proud of your victories in Highpoint and Deepwood Motte, and I never thought my boy was the one, who defeated Balon Greyjoy's daughter in those savage woods. You do not need to worry for me, I have the Queen's Men, Uncle Axell and the Lady Melisandre around me. I pray to the fires of R'hllor every night and day for your safety._

 _I hope to see you soon, after you crush the Boltons and Freys on the battlefield._

 _From your mother._

A tear fell from one of the prince's blue eyes. He did not know what to think when reading his mother's words in writing. Jacob began to realise how much his mother was suffering without his presence with her. He knew she was strong enough to handle anything, especially being married to a solemn person like his father for many years and to endure the misery she did for him and Shireen. The queen was able to cope before, especially with Melisandre at her side, but this time Jacob leaving has rattled his queen mother to the point of her asking a foreigner to pass letters onto him through the North, the middle of a rebellion and a war.

* * *

The prince was alone during a heavy day of the storms brewing. The snows were never going to let up, as it has been this way, since they all left Deepwood Motte and how it was a sign of this winter going to be a long one. He missed the long summer, as it was easier to wear clothes without the excessive furs and hard boots on his feet. He adapted to the storm, as best he could, even though he was a southorn man and was used to the cold the north brought upon him. Prince Jacob had just left the longhall, after seeing Luthor entertaining the remaining bannermen his father had left. His cousin never paid much attention to him because he wanted to gain popularity amongst the northerners and the southerners in the army. It must be Luthor way of dealing with the homesickness, but he never cared to tell anyone, all because he wanted to gain glory and honour for himself in the war.

There was something wrong, as the crofter's village was close to Winterfell and why haven't the Boltons attacked them yet. The prince shook his head at the realisation if the newly released ironborn scum from Deepwood Motte were responsible for the discord in the war camp. He was furious how Tycho Nestoris had released ironborn men; he personally had captured and locked up after the battle of the Wolfswood. It was like his hard work and bravery on the battlefield meant nothing, but the envoy from Braavos offered his father an opportunity, and it was another stone set on the path for his father to claim the throne.

" _ **Why did Nestoris give me the letters from the Wall? He was not obligated to do so. It must be his way of trying to win my trust and the trust of my father. Foreigners are not to be trusted, as Melisandre is an example of such. My mother missed me a lot, and it shows within her writing. She was also torn between wishing me luck on the war and being angry with father for bringing me further south to fight the war."**_

The prince stepped on the heavier mounds of snow on the ground. Little white flakes of snow were covering his arms. He needed a stroll away from everyone else, and even his sworn shield and cousin. There were rumours of Mors Crowfood bringing in two runaways to his father and did not want anyone else to know about it. Jacob was not concerned at all, as people are brought to his father all the time and nothing happened to them afterwards. The Karstarks would not do anything that jeopardised their ambitions of being linked to the rightful royal family, by doing something that would endanger Jacob and his father.

He had his three layers of black cloaks and furs wrapped around his body, and the golden trim around his neck to make him look a true Baratheon, unlike the blonde abominations, who sat on his father's throne and stained the Baratheon name. It made his skin crawl of the idea of making more difficult choices, as the war went on. He did what he needed to do to secure his victories on the battlefield, and even say the vows in front of the Seven and the Godswood to Alys Karstark to secure the future for his family. Uncle Robert said war was the last bastion of manhood before being constrained into the prison that was marriage, but all Jacob saw growing up in terms of marriages were discontent and poison between the couples in his family.

The man's thoughts were moving towards Asha Greyjoy. He shook his head, every time he thought of her. It disgusted him to even think he enjoyed her company. The company of an ironborn invader and the last of Balon Greyjoy's line. Jacob was meant to be focused on the incoming battle against the Bolton and Frey armies, and not his mind straying towards a woman destined for life imprisonment. No one understood the true symptom of being lonely, and the pain that came with it. There was no one Jacob connected with on an equal level, who was not a mindless knight or servant who obeyed him without a thought. Sorrell nor his cousin Luthor could understand the noring ache of isolation within Jacob, them only being knights, who could make friends with anyone of the King's Men or any of the northmen fighting this war on their side.

" _ **Was what it I feel towards Asha than I would feel towards Desmera? Was it disgust of who she was and how she is proud to be an ironborn invader? Or was the disgust more towards myself for subconsciously lusting after her when I am going to marry Alys days after the reclamation of Winterfell. It's so wrong and I was raised in an environment where sexual freedoms in secret dens were the norm in the Reach, away from the watchful eyes of lord fathers and lady mothers."**_

The prince was twiddling his fingers, and the thoughts towards his budding adolescence and trying to find himself in a world, where everything was laid out in front of him. He was no novice to the pleasures of the bedchambers and enjoyed his dalliances before he met Desmera, and all hell from that meeting broke loose. Would things have been different had Jacob not fallen in love with Desmera and one of the minor Tyrell girls instead? It was just nonsense from his adolescent years, that should have been snuffed out of his mind, the moment Jacob was punished and sent to Winterfell so dear old Ned Stark can correct his wild ways.

Prince Jacob walked past a few of the northern tents, as it had the sigils of those houses, with the southern tents being on the other side of the camp. He held onto his mother's letters under his cloak, as it was the only thing he had of her that was new. He raised an eyebrow, as he caught a few voices from the distance and he did not know who those voices belonged to. The man walked further, towards the Karstark tent and stood at a considerable distance, as he could not afford to be seen lurking about like a spy.

" _What do you mean, my lord? The king is not as imprudent as you believe him to be."_ A gravely tone of voice said, as it sounded as if it came from an old man.

" _Of course, he's not. He's got that hairy son of his whispering in his ear. A false alliance was needed to get us closer to the king."_ Another voice replied, as It sounded familiar with its brazen arrogant tone.

" _You made a big mistake, Lord Harald. You gave the prince a cause to be suspicious of you and your dim-witted family members and the other brother, the fool almost exposed us for good."_

" _Maester Tybald, may I remind you who you work for. Unless, you want me to tell Stannis what you have been doing and see who the king believes, his soon to be good family or a no good maester, who serves the Boltons."_

" _You and your family are despicable, lying to the king for a marriage alliance that will not happen. Lord Arnolf informed me of your family's plot for your brother to steal Karhold by marrying Lord Rickard's daughter behind the king's back, knowing he intended to marry the girl off to his son."_

" _My father trusts you too much, maester. No one is afraid of Stannis, because of his poor defeat at the Blackwater, but his son is more formidable than him, all because he is a man and unmarried, there are many high lords, who will throw their daughters at him the second they know he is alive."_

" _You are right, Lord Harald. The man must be dealt with, knowing he is the main instrument behind Stannis's successes in ridding the north of the ironborn, the wildlings and cleared the Whitehills of their own lands and gave it to the Forresters. Get rid of him and Stannis Baratheon will falter and will have to rely on the narrow-minded soldiers of his council to advise him."_

" _The benefits weight for more than the risk, Tybald. For years, we were stuck under the thumbs of Lord Rickard and Ned Stark, and this marriage my father proposed will put our family under the thumb of Stannis Baratheon and he will have control of Karhold, and whatever grandchildren Alys births him."_

" _Your brother Arthor, my lord. He will ruin this, unless he cannot handle the pressure these plans require. We are almost close, the war for the north will begin and we will finally have that witch worshipping demon and his whelp off our lands and his armies scattered across the north."_

" _My father will have him straight, but there have been complications. The wretched girl ran away from Karhold, as soon as she knew she was not marrying a prince. She was our most valuable pawn and to give her away to the spawn of Stannis Baratheon will be a waste of a good opportunity for us."_

" _What if Stannis marries off his son to one of the unwed Umber daughters or even Lord Manderly's granddaughters, your lot and the Boltons will be in trouble. An unwed son is the greatest advantage Stannis has."_

The prince could believe what he was hearing, as it validated his doubts about the Karstarks, and him wanting to find out if there was a bigger plot surrounding this alliance. He knew at the back of his mind Lord Arnolf was plotting to seize Karhold and the Karstark lands, from under the main line and passing it onto himself and his sons. It was an underhanded play, and Alys was a pawn in all of this. She was not going to be his wife, but forced to become the spouse of that disgusting rat known as Cregan Karstark. Terrible as it was, Alys was the heir of House Karstark, if her brother Harrion is still alive and held hostage at Maidenpool.

Jacob needed to tell Sorrell and Luthor what he had learned. He knew the voices belonged to Harald Karstark and some maester called Tybald, the one brought with Arnolf's retinue, but he was not the maester of Karhold, but from the Dreadfort. It was a wide plot involving the Karstark men, Maester Tybald and Roose Bolton, all in an alliance to get rid of Jacob and his father Stannis, to cripple their successful war campaign in the north and to crush them. He was glad, even though it was wrong to have relief, knowing Alys ran away from home and must be seeking protection from Cregan and rode to the Wall.

The infolding of this treachery has consequences, knowing the men involved will be executed on his father's orders and Jacob will be without a bride once again. He was guilty of being relieved his former bride has fled her captors and false marriage to find freedom. The men in the tent were still there, but were not ready to leave, even though the prince was hiding behind another tent, belonging to a smaller northern house. Jacob had a habit of spying on people, especially on Mace Tyrell and his bannermen, when he was young, by listening through the walls of Highgarden, even though he never got caught by them.

" _My father requested you send another map, as the raven for the previous was killed by a renegade arrow and he wants it done quickly."_ The voice of Harald said, in a tone of malice, clearing trying to intimidate the maester.

" _It will be done, my lord."_ The voice of Maester Tybald replied.

" _You are the key to this plot being a success. I am grateful for your information of the happenings with Cregan and Alys. My father will appreciate your service when everything is done and those Baratheon southorns are dead."_

" _If the wretched girl is gone, it does not matter. Lord Bolton will reward you and your brothers with Frey wives and the castles of empty houses, if everything goes to plan."_

" _My father will need to see you soon, Tybald."_

Prince Jacob hid behind the tent, as he watched an old man leave the tent with his maester chains jangling, as he walked out. His heart was racing, knowing he was in dangerous waters, but he could not help it. He enjoyed the thrills playing the game gave him and the risks it involved. It was much more interesting than swinging a sword on the battlefield, but he noticed Harald was still in the tent, unknowingly smug with himself and thinking his plans will ever blossom. Jacob knew the Karstarks led by Arnold were no good, but it seems his doubts were proven right and they were plotting to kill both the prince and his father for Roose Bolton, anything to dampen their successful campaign and have it end at being stabbed in the back by the uglier Karstarks and that smug maester, who deserved to be strangled.

" _ **What if Alys goes to the Wall? She will surely get help from Jon, being distantly related to him through blood. My mother is also at the Wall, and is also pushing for the Karstark marriage, as well as father does. She will surely protect her, knowing she is an unwed bride. The poor girl has had a rough time, in terms of betrothals with her previous two being killed on the battlefield against the Kingslayer and being forced to marry her distant cousin for power."**_

The man realised what Arthor said at the dinner table, almost gave his family away and could have ended their plotting, but Arnolf stopped him in his tracks. It was not the mouth of the youngest son that would have exposed them, but it was the mouths of the Dreadfort maester and the middle son, which will unravel their plot for them. In Jacob's opinion, Roose Bolton was lazy and relied on fools to do his dirty work for him, as his list of war crimes mount up. The Leech Lord can hide behind Winterfell all he wants to, but sooner he will face to face the rightful king and his heir on the battlefield with sword in hand and not by being a coward.

* * *

Jacob knew his father Stannis was still hosting the banker Nestoris, as the man had the means and finances to allow his father to succeed in the game of thrones, whilst the Lannisters and Tyrells fight each other for whatever scraps of power there is for them to fight for. As much as Jacob hated hiding, he liked it as it gave him the advantage. Being a man of eight and ten and unmarried in the middle of a war, which is still going on, even though the other side believe they have won it. He and his father knew Roose Bolton had a Frey wife, and she would make a lovely prisoner next to Asha Greyjoy and the treacherous Barbrey Dustin as well.

On the bright side, with Alys a runaway and the Karstarks revealing themselves to be traitors, it seems the doors of opportunity are open to the north once more. If only it was easy to sit his stubborn father and the fearful Lord Wyman on the same table, but it could happen if they won the battle, reclaimed Winterfell and had the heads of Lord Bolton and his bastard on spikes. The prince was thankful of hearing the plot between the Karstarks, Boltons and that maester unfolding before his ears, as it means a new bride can be found for him from the right noble house.

It was not easy, being the most eligible unattached man in Westeros, with every opportunity for marriage being crushed. The earlier plans for a Reacher marriage folded, after the dispute between Paxter Redwyne and Randyll Tarly ended, the after Blackwater betrothal idea was scuppered as they lost that battle and an eligible bride and the third ran away from treacherous relatives. Jacob almost hoped Ser Davos would return with a marriage proposal that would change everything for them, but he was still missing, and he did not know when he would come back to him.

The prince got out from the hiding place and thought for a second what he wanted to do. His eye was on the Karstark tent and the man inside of it. He could leave and go tell his father, Sorrell and Luthor everything he heard from Harald and Maester Tybald about their plot against them. He started to pace towards the tent and pulled the covers of it to see the man fidgeting with his fingers, with many swords and shields grafted with the white sun sigil of their house, even though it's not their rightful sigil, around the tent, as it could be for him and his brother, when they fight on the battlefield. The prince kept his calm, and held his black gloved hands together, as the man turns around to see the prince, unexpectedly as he should come to expect, kings and princes come when they want to without any warnings, especially when they want to talk.

"Prince Jacob, what can I do for you, my almost good cousin." Harald said, in a tone of voice he would not normally use towards anyone.

"To talk about a serious matter, which you can help me with. Your father being the man he is, might withhold things from me." Prince Jacob replied, in a similar tone of voice.

"Of course, anything to help the man, who will elevate the status of our family further."

"I want to know about my bride, Alys. Your cousin and if your father will make good on his word on bringing her to Winterfell after the battle is over."

"My lord father will do anything; the king requires of him. After all, your father would have pledged your hand to another lord and married some other tart in the north."

"Why is your brother so tight-lipped, whenever I mention her and why did you father hit him with his cane, when he was about to say something."

"Arthor and that big mouth of his, it's what won him his current wife. Father always hated his mouth, as it would get him in trouble. He hit him because it was bad conduct, in front of your father and yourself."

"Unless, your brother wanted to say something, but your father was afraid it was going to get out."

"Out about what?"

"The fact my bride ran away from Karhold, explain that to me, Lord Harald because I cannot understand, why a highborn girl would run away from her own home, unless she wanted to escape, let's say a false marriage and being lied to about who she was going to marry." The prince said, raising his voice against the Karstark lord.

"What do you mean by that? Who told you? I bet it was Mors Umber spreading rumours, so you could marry one of the Greatjon's daughters instead." Harald bellowed.

"I'm asking you, my lord. As I assume you have the answers, unless you know more than you are telling me. Your brother is a fool and your father a half-wit, and it's why I came to you instead." Jacob said, with his voice tightly controlled, as he sounded like his father.

The look on Harald's face with his gritting teeth, suggested he did not like being put in his place often. "I only know what my father tells me."

"Or what you tell others or who your father orders around, like a certain maester."

"Maester Tybald is of our house and he must obey my father's orders, as the castellan of Karhold and regent head of House Karstark."

"No….that maester came from the Dreadfort, because I met the maester for Karhold before and he was a different man and more pleasant than this one."

"You are on thin ice, Andal filth. You dare to accuse me of lying about some maester. Why make it such a big issue?"

"It's more than the maester's loyalties, but more about the loyalties of you, your brothers and your father. I know what I heard, my lord. You Karstarks are nothing but snakes the day I saw your retinue come into the village. My father, as stubborn as he is, does not believe your father to be true to his word. You bastards intended to steal my future wife and give her away to your older brother to claim lordship of Karhold for yourselves and plan to stab my father and I in the backs."

"I did what I had to do for the north. You and your father brought nothing, but chaos and war upon us. The boy Robb Stark lost the north, the day he married that western whore in the south and broke his promise to the Freys. He got what he deserves, as well as his bitch mother, his dead brothers and the Tullys destroyed. You would want them dead too, after all, they refused your father's claim to the throne and bluffed his fealty as if it was a jape."

"Your family will be dead, all within hours of each other. When my father knows, you will never see your brother, your nephews or your father again."

"Is that a threat, Prince Jacob? My family have always been beneath those, who see themselves as better than us. You and your demon worshipping father are no different. He will destroy the sacred weirwoods and replace them with flames with men burning alive. I hear the rumours from other southorns about your father, the great Stannis Baratheon, who had his wife's uncle burned alive and destroyed the idols of the Seven on Dragonstone. Tell me, my prince. Why would you fight for a man, who does even respect your faith at all?

Prince Jacob hated to admit Harald, the despicable Karstark was right in some cases. All his reasons were of superstitions and rumours he heard from others. Arthor had a big mouth, Cregan was a wife killer and Harald was the one, out of his brothers, who made the most sense in his convictions. He hid behind his drunken personality to make people see the surface and not look inwards. The man looked at Harald in the eye, and realised he was a bad liar, but was good at twisting the truth to suit his own purpose. Everything he said about the Starks was true, even though most hated to admit it because they were loved in the north and all the northern houses had respect for them, except for the power-hungry likes of Roose Bolton and Barbery Dustin. He needed Harald to tell him everything in front of him, by him being rattled gave him control.

"You are right about one thing, Lord Harald. You are loyal to your family without question, as I am to mine. No matter what people say about my father, I am still on his side and you are on the side of your father, even though he berates you and your brother in our company."

"I'm glad to see you are not as blindly ignorant as you are, Prince Jacob."

"Your treachery goes many bounds, my lord. You pretend to be a drunkard, but you are truly the brains behind this plot with your father and that maester."

"Arthor would have ruined things, but father saved his skin again. Father warned us about you, how intelligent you are and how you are able to sniff out treachery in an instant. I must applaud you, Andal filth. You uncovered a plot, even your grim-faced father never found out about."

As Harald began to laugh, the prince punched the pretender lord across the face, seeing two teeth fall out of Harald's mouth. His knuckles must be bruised from smacking him in the face. Harald was knocked onto the ground with teeth missing from his mouth and he still grinned. He must have enjoyed being knocked down by someone stronger than him. The prince had no time to entertain the pretender's sick desire to be beaten up by Jacob's own hands, as he started to walk away. Harald pulled out a dagger from behind his trousers, it was not a glamourous one, but it was still a deadly weapon in the wrong hands. He glared at Prince Jacob, realising only one of them was going to leave this tent alive.

"You think you are tough, us northmen are stronger than you, git." Harald gritted between his teeth, with a tooth missing from the right side of his mouth and another at the bottom left. He charged with his dagger pointed at the prince, but Jacob brought out his own very jewelled one to counter the attack on him. He had been in confrontations before, and even killed a bandit, but fighting a lower-class lord was going to be a challenge because Harald was a lot smarter than he pretends to be.

Prince Jacob reflected Harald's wild and uncoordinated strikes with his own dagger, but the man was able to avoid the sharp end of the dagger. He moved away from where the pretender lord could see him, by appearing on his right side, and used his right arm to knock off Harald on his feet and him landing onto the ground. It was a shame, for Harald fall this way, but a Baratheon is as strong as the antlers of his sigil. It seems Lord Karstark learnt that lesson the hard way, and tasted Baratheon fury for a moment. The lord was planted onto the ground, holding onto his right leg, which must have been twisted during their bout and the prince looked on with a sense of apathy for someone, as treacherous as he was.

The man turned his back on the pretender lord and looked past the covers of the tent to see Asha coming towards it, but out of the blue, something struck him in the left side of his stomach. He was negligent, in turning his back and started to notice something trickling down his leg. Jacob placed his hand on the spot to realise it was his own blood, and he had been stabbed on the side. What he feared would happen to his father has now become a reality for Jacob.

The prince's vision was becoming cloudy and he could not see what was happening. He heard the shriek of a woman in his ear, and a low laugh coming from the man, who stabbed him. Jacob closed his eyes, knowing this could be his eventual end, but he did not want to die in the middle of a tent. He held onto where his wound was, and then collapsed on the ground from the dizziness circling his mind. He did not know this is where his life might end, but if it was then it would have been a poor end for such a man like him.


	15. The Kraken's Daughter

**A/N:** **My first chapter written for the new year. I love the dynamic between Asha and Jacob, and I wanted to write from her point of view after what happened in the last chapter. I hope to write her in character, but I tried my best to do one of my favourite canon characters justice.  
**

* * *

 **Chapter Fifteen – The Kraken's Daughter:**

It was the hour of the wolf, when Asha Greyjoy was seized from her camping accommodation by knights adorned in red and white. She knew they were Stannis's southorn men. She may not be chained again, but she was still marshalled by them, who ordered her to go with them willingly, unless she wants to face five knights alone. The men in red and white were under instructions from King Stannis himself. Alysane, the She-Bear knew a little of what was happening, but it was big enough to cause discontent amongst the men Stannis brought from the south and the northerners fighting with him. Asha did nothing wrong, but she knew what she did to stop things getting worse than they were now.

" _ **I did what I had to do. Why did I save the greenlander from being killed by that Karstark beast? I saw the man stab him when the green prince saw me coming. I disarmed him, not aiming to kill because Stannis will have fun skinning him alive for wounding his precious son. Why did the northman stab the green prince, unless the man found out something foul about the Karstark men worthy of exposing to his father and he got stabbed for what he knew about it."**_

The knights Asha saw were from House Follard, the men who guarded the green prince against one of the cannibals, who tried to attack him. The stick man had no chance in doing anything, as Ser Suggs opened the man's throat in front of his esteemed future king. She did not know what came over her, what drove her to save the life of a man, who openly disparaged her in public and in private. It must have been to make her prison sentence lesser than what the southorn king instructed, but Asha knew Stannis paid no debts to anyone, he viewed as his enemies, but would he grant a favour for one, who saved the life of his only male heir.

She was motioned by the guards to go towards the watchtower, the same tower the king and his son made themselves comfortable at, whilst the other men froze within their tents in the middle of the snows. Asha did not have much time, before any of Stannis's men found out about what she did. She would be seized by them to be dragged before the southorn king and would have to explain herself. It was hard enough seeing her dear brother again, haggard and broken beyond recognition. What she did for the sweet green prince could have consequences for the life of Theon and the girl he rescued from Winterfell.

The watchtower looked huge in front of her eyes, but she knew it was the dead of the night and men patrolled this area. The Follard knights allowed her bread to eat before they seized her, as it was unusually good of them to do so. Asha had nothing to answer for, as she did nothing wrong, only saving the prince she tried to seduce. The trouble was Stannis would never see it that way, and see her for the person responsible for almost killing his son, and not the Karstark man who tried to it. She knew the southorn king will put the blame on her, and not on a member of a family he desperately wanted to tie his son to for a northern alliance.

" _ **It's not so simple, my lady. Prince Jacob's hand is sworn to the daughter of House Karstark. His Grace is pleased to have secured an alliance in the north so soon. The south believe he is dead from being killed on the Blackwater and it can be used to our advantage. The king wants us to accommodate the Karstarks as much as we can, as we will be linked to them through marriage and most of us will serve the future Lady Karstark when she weds the prince in Winterfell."**_

Asha paid no attention to what Ser Justin was telling her at the time. As one of Stannis Baratheon's most valuable knights, Ser Justin was privy to a few of the king's secrets once every moment and was able to tell her as much as he could. He was keen in impressing her and, even courting her for titles and lands she does not own. The frigid prince was right about the knight about the ambition of men in this camp, and Ser Justin was the most ambitious of them all, hiding under courtesies and treating her well. Unlike the Queen's Men, who would have dragged her out of bed and taken her by force to the king, but the Follard knights gave her time to gather herself, before she was escorted by them.

It was a shame the green prince had to be stabbed, for it was not what Asha wanted. She may have dislike for the frigid man, but she did not wish for his death, as it would complicate things even more. The knights entered the watchtower with the ironborn woman in their possession, as they passed the other knights of the southorn king's host. Asha had to defend her tattered honour against a king, who would want to kill her, but all she did was disarm the man, who stabbed the prince not killing him, as Stannis would want to savour torturing the Karstark, who hurt his son.

Within the watchtower was a sizeable audience, with King Stannis sitting on a crafted wooden chair at the centre. He had both his knights, Ser Richard and Ser Justin at his right side and the Grimm knight, Ser Sorrell on the left side of the king, with a few minor lordlings and soldiers in attendance, even a few Queen's Men were there as well. The king gritted between his teeth and clenched his fingers onto the sides of his chair, as she knew he wanted someone held accountable for what happened to the prince and punished for it.

"You know why I have brought you here, Greyjoy?" The king said, in a strained tone. He was not in the mood for formalities, knowing the severity of the situation at hand.

"You blame me for what happened to your son." Asha replied, standing straight with the Follard knights getting her go.

"No…you were there when Harald Karstark, the drunkard attempted to murder my son."

"Yes, Your Grace I was."

King Stannis turned his iron glare at Sorrell, who was meant to be the sworn shield of his son, but the knight clearly had a look of guilt on his face. "And you failed at your duty at shielding my son, Ser Grimm. You are to be dismissed from my son's service and therefore a common knight amongst others. It is your incompetence that almost cost me my heir, maybe the Lady Greyjoy should take your place, as she did what you were supposed to do."

Asha was in a room full of foes, but she could not help, but be entertained by the king's jape made at the disgraced knight. "I am honoured at the offer, Your Grace, but I am your prisoner."

"I did not mean to be literal, my lady."

"I did nothing wrong, Your Grace. I was wondering around the camp and I heard an argument between the prince and Harald Karstark about him unfolding a plot."

"I already have knowledge of the Karstarks attempting to have me killed, with the help of their false maester, who serves the Dreadfort not Karhold. I was fortunate to have an ally, who informed me of the situation and how the Karstarks led by Lord Arnolf are working with Roose Bolton to have me and my son destroyed, and my son's bride stolen from us."

Asha glimpsed the expressions on the faces of Stannis's loyalist knights and those to his; they were of disgust and anger, especially Ser Sorrell, the man who was meant to be shielding the sweet green prince from any harm or danger, but the man failed. The men thought the Karstarks were on their side in the war, but with what happened to the prince and Asha's own testimony on what transpired between the Prince Jacob and Lord Harald, things were tense in the room. The men were muttering amongst themselves, as it irritated the king not to have full control his babbling court of King's Men, Queen's Men and others he brought to the northern war.

"You decided to save Harald Karstark for the king's justice, I commend you on thinking such of me." King Stannis said, in an iron tone and had his eyes on Ser Sorrell, the former shield of the green prince. "And where were you when the Karstark almost killed my son?"

"….I…was in the longhall with Ser Luthor and others, Your Grace." Ser Sorrell said, in a forlorn tone of voice. He looked to be ashamed of not doing his duty and now an injured prince lies in a healing hut because of his failure to be there for his charge. As far as Asha was concerned, he deserved to be dismissed from his post.

"Getting drunk with my distant cousin, while my son fights for his life. I never trusted you, Reachman and you proved your disloyalty. You will be under Ser Richard's watch for the time being and keep yourself away from my son, unless you want to join the Karstarks on the execution block."

"Yes….Your Grace." The disgraced knight said, with a bitterness hinted in his tone. He was not allowed to be anywhere near the prince he served, and he had to be watched by Ser Richard Horpe, the most loyal of Stannis's knights and a Queen's Man.

"And as for the Karstarks, who conspired against me and to have my son murdered. The crooked lord, his sons and grandsons have been arrested for conspiracy and treason. The middle son will answer for his attempted murder of my son with his own death and those of his family. To think I considered marrying my son into their house, after knowing they conspired to steal his bride up from under me in order to seize power on Lord Rickard's lands."

"What if the iron bitch helped the Karstark stab the prince in the back, Your Grace?" Ser Clayton Suggs said, in a tone laced with malice, "If she was there, then it makes her guilty as well."

"The Lady Greyjoy is not guilty, Ser Suggs, unless you want me to remind you. She saved my son's life and makes the rest of you look foolish in comparison."

The ironborn was pleased to see a terrible knight such as Suggs be put his place, but it was strange to have the king defend her and even believe what she told. It did not mean Asha was out of the woods yet, she did not know whether the king was going to keep her or let her go. She was a witness to what happened to the prince, which made her more valuable to the king. They say Stannis Baratheon had no weakness, but she knew his son was his sore spot and it was what made him stir more than normal. The men in his gathered court were fearful, but lucky they were not the ones at the centre of the king's ire, like the failure knight.

Ser Sorrell looked down and didn't look up, when court was being held in the watchtower. He was out of place, as the king focused his ire at the knight, who failed to protect his son. Asha thought nothing of it, because the knight was no friend to her, but had some pity for him for being dismissed as the greenland prince's shield and was just like any of Stannis's knights in the barracks again. The ironborn knew not to test her luck, especially surrounded by Queen's Men, who want to set her alight for their red god and King's Men, who want her killed alongside the Karstark, who tried to kill their warrior prince in a brutal way.

"The Karstarks played me false, I ate their salt and bread, and this is how they repay their rightful king. Attempting to kill my son and cripple my war efforts in the north." King Stannis gritted between his teeth, and he was eager to punish all the Karstarks for the crime of treason.

"What should we do, Your Grace?" Ser Luthor said, making his voice known within the court of burly northmen and shivered southern men.

"The treasonous maester will be brought to me at once. Ser Godry, you will be the man to bring the maester to my feet immediately, when this court has been dismissed."

"I will be happy to do so, Your Grace." Ser Godry replied, with a wide smile on his face.

"As for you, Lady Greyjoy. You may have redeemed yourself here, saving the life of my son and being a witness to the falseness the Karstarks presented to me. Unlike my son's failure of a sworn shield, you proved your innocence and I will not punish you today."

Asha was relieved to hear it, as it was what she feared when she was brought the king. She was going to keep her head for now, as the king believed her over the louder voices of his Queen's Men, who were keen to see her be killed, alongside the Karstarks, who betrayed the king and his heir. She knew she was alone, in a room full of enemies and no allies to defend her, but she did not expect the defence to come from the southorn king himself. The man may seem harsh and cold on the outside, but when he spoke of what happened to his son, the king's shell was breaking at the bite of his anger towards the knight, who swore himself to protect the green prince and failed.

Stannis Baratheon claims to have no weakness or vulnerable spot, but Asha saw what it was. It was his son and his only male heir, which is the source of his current anger of what happened to him. The king's son was his only weak spot and the Karstarks sought to use it against him, but too bad for them, all of them will be executed later in the coming moons. Asha may not have wanted to see the Queen's Men burning men alive, but a good chopping would do the trick for the Karstarks, who tried to kill the greenland prince.

" _ **The king loves his son, as cold as he seems. He does care for his son, in his own way. Stannis dismissed Ser Grimm from the prince's guard because of the man's failure in doing his duty. The king had it out for the Reach knight and this was the perfect opportunity for him to make him the one at the target of his fury, at least his ire is not directed at me for once and his loyal knights can rest from being under the king's constant biting comments and scrutiny in his eyes."**_

She was fortunate to be spared for now, but it would not last long before the southorn king has knowledge about how his precious heir is lusting after ironborn scum like her, and the man will be ruined for all potential northern brides. The ironborn reaver considered the king's search, for a northern bride for the prince to be pointless. The eligible ones are either dead or already married in the greenlands, but Stannis Baratheon was not a man for giving up and will do whatever it takes to get his son matched with a northern girl by any means necessary, even if the prince himself may not like the girl, he must marry her on his father's orders and for hope the stag's bloodline will replenish itself through the king's young and fruitful son.

Her hopes of becoming a southorn queen was fading through fast, even though Stannis would never allow his son to wed ironborn scum like her. Asha could sense the glares of all the king's knights all on her, as if she was the one guilty for attacking the prince. She was reminded again, of how she was surrounded by northerners and southerners, who wanted to kill her or even shed a little of her ironborn blood for the pleasure of it, but she was the king's hostage. She was alive because of the king and her fate was in his hands.

* * *

The captain was groggy the next morning, after the night of being trapped between King Stannis's knights and some of the northmen. Asha could tell the war camp was in high alert, after the prince's stabbing by Harald Karstark, who was arrested alongside other members of his family for apparent treason against the king, as the southorn king had eyes at the back of his head to know what was going on. She was stuck with Ser Justin Massey for the day, as he was her permanent escort because she cannot be let out of sight, as most of the king's knights still blame her for what happened, even though the truth was right in front of them.

The snowstorm kept increasing through the days, as it killed off some of the army's horses, with them being a small amount of them still alive on the journey south from Deepwood Motte. She was fine staying away, as it was what she was told to do. The southorn king didn't like her, as she existed as proof of his son's victory against the remnants of her men in the northern castle. It was Prince Jacob, who defeated her in single combat on the field and yet his father was the one, who took the credit for it.

A few tents were blown away by the heavy storms, but it kept Stannis resilient and never wanted to turn back, unless he was dying on the field. Asha could sense Ser Justin's gaze on her, as he was still pretending to be the shining champion, who would win her at and her ironborn lands, but her thoughts were on another man, another who was fighting for what was left of his life in a healing tent. Why would she think of a man, who openly hated her and called her scum to her face? It was the thrill of it, she liked about the prince, nothing else. He was the only decent looking man in this camp and was the king's son, which made things more interesting in her mind.

" _ **Ser Justin is a sad knight, all he cares about is his own ambitions. He would never willingly disobey Stannis, like his son does because he was born a high lord and can do anything he wants. The king put away my ironborn men to ensure my good behaviour, but it would be easy for him to kill them in front of me, as a warning of staying away from his son. The forbidden is always more inciting than what was allowed because of the prince being married off to some greenland woman, who is only a broodmare to birth his children and keep Stannis's bloodline from dying out."**_

The ironborn captain was bitter, bitter towards everything that happened to her. Her mother was a lifeless corpse, barely alive and grief-stricken for Theon; her father dead, murdered by the mad uncle who wears his driftwood crown and took the Iron Fleet with him to the south and the uncles, who stole her birthright from her. Asha had nothing, apart from her name. As a Greyjoy, she still had value to the greenlanders and was going to be a prisoner for the rest of her life. It was penance for what the ironborn had done to the north and what Theon had done to the Starks, who used to rule the north. Her brother was responsible for allowing the Boltons to have a foothold in Winterfell and for the war to continue in the north.

Asha loved her little brother dearly, but never forgot his faults and the consequences it brought. It was unlikely she was going to take him home to see their mother again, not after Stannis beheads him in front of the northmen, as a show of faith to them, as their rightful king. She wouldn't want Theon to die so far away from the sea, where he was born and where he belonged with her and their ailing mother, who missed him so much in Ten Towers. She couldn't think about him now, especially with her diligent escort next to her with his smiling face. Ser Justin was good company for the road, but she looked at him in a new way, after the prince revealed his true intentions towards her.

"You should not wonder off, my lady." Ser Justin said, in a dull tone.

"Should I be shackled again?" Asha replied.

"Of course, not my lady. Things are tense and with the situation with the prince, it's best you stick by me."

"I am not guilty, if it's what you think."

"I believe you, about those Karstarks. The king arresting them all proves what you said to be true."

"Why would I be foolish enough to hurt him?"

"The prince is often targeted by his father's enemies."

"I should be rewarded."

"For what, my lady."

"Saving his life, ungrateful green man." The ironborn captain said, with a brittle bite in her tone.

"His Grace, the prince will thank you, but his father will not."

The smiler was right in a way. Stannis Baratheon was not the kind of man, who thanked anyone for anything, as it was in him to be a stubborn and self-righteous man. The king inspired obedience, never loyalty out love like some greenlander lords did, but it kept him in the game. He was brittle man, who accepted nothing, unless it was an advantage for him in the long term. She wondered how Prince Jacob could tolerate a father like Stannis. Who was Asha to judge? As her own father Balon was a bitter man, lamenting his loss of his own foolish rebellion and the two sons who died because of his folly. Asha was her father's heir, all because of the sons he lost in the war, and he was sure his bloodline continued through her, even though she was a woman, who would eventually take her lord husband's name and not keep her own last name.

There was an irony of the false marriage forced on her, as long as she was Stannis's prisoner. Asha will never want to stare into the face of the old reaver, Nuncle Euron made her husband in name only. She was in no hurry to go back to the Ironmaker, who occupied the Iron Islands and Pyke in Euron's absence. The man cannot afford the ransom for her release, but even if he had enough coin for her, King Stannis would never let her go. She was too valuable to him, as a hostage and a pawn in his game with the northern lords.

"Take me to the healing tent, my noble champion." Asha said, in a different tone, as it might surprise Ser Justin.

"I…cannot, Lady Asha. The king has forbidden any knight from going there, only the maester brought from the Forrester retinue and the prince's cousin, the Estermont boy are allowed there." Ser Justin replied.

"You are my guard, are you supposed to go wherever I go."

"I am already under fire, by the king for doing my duty poorly. I will not disobey him again."

"You could be the prince's new shield, Ser Justin."

"Why, my lady?"

"The king dismissed the reachman and this could be your opportunity."

Asha had gotten Ser Justin to think. The most obedient of Stannis's knights could be elevated, from the vacuum of Ser Sorrell being dismissed by the king and other knights could be in contention as well. She saw through the gallant knight he pretended to be, as it was Prince Jacob, who told her the truth about the smiler. She was growing used to the discomfort the war camp brought her, as one of the only women present, which made most of the men around here stir more, as some have never seen a woman in years, since they started fighting Stannis's war for the throne.

Asha was more aware of what would happen, if she stepped out of line, surrounded by southorns and northmen, who want to bleed her dry and believe she hurt the prince. She didn't like him, the grim Prince Jacob, who inspired fear and hatred of those around him. He was no green man and could have killed her at Deepwood Motte and left her in the snows to bleed out. The stag kept her alive to secure the victory for his father and for his forces that day. He treated her as she was the true enemy, and not Roose Bolton. It didn't matter to Asha, as the deaths of the Boltons and Freys will satisfy her hunger, for revenge for what they did to Theon, behind the walls of Winterfell's dark dungeons, where the bastard of Bolton broke him.

Ser Justin was a knight desperate to rise through the ranks; he had nothing to his name, since the Lannisters took everything from him. Asha knew the smiler wanted to be connected to her, as a way of furthering his own ambition to be lord of the Iron Islands through her, but it was never going to happen. Euron was king and had the loyalty of the old-minded reavers, who wanted to continue terrorising the greenlands, not knowing the consequences, with the lions and roses on the throne. The madman was going to lead the ironborn into more death and violence, as the greenlanders, who hold the south will never forget the ironborn and Euron's invasion will get her fellow ironborn killed in this war.

The ironborn captain was being led by Ser Justin through the treks of the heights of snows. It was going to get colder, and the armies will perish day by day, waiting for their moment of glory on the battlefield. Asha knew it was a risk, knowing she will face the northmen, as it was a northern house, whose maester is mending the prince's wounds. The knight was risking a lot for her, even though he still has hope of becoming her husband, as a reward from King Stannis, for his loyalty to him. Ser Justin was persistent, even though everything is stacked against him; he was unpopular with the other knights and the prince personally disliked him.

Asha had extra furs on her, as it was colder than the previous days. The bones of the perished horses were bare to see buried in a foot of snow. Horse heads were scattered around the blown down tents, which couldn't hold against the fury of the heavy storm coming this way. As a hostage, she was fortunate than most. However, she was still a gutter rat compared to Stannis's second cousin, the Estermont boy with hair like dragon fire and his son, the lord of the storm and fury. The cold had caused her to lose some feeling on her nose, as her fingertips were filthy from sleeping in cramped conditions with the She-Bear most days.

The tent ahead had the banner of the white branched out tree, on a black field. It was the banner of House Forrester, a proud, but small northern house in the north near Deepwood Motte. There were guards from House Follard guarding all areas surrounding the tent. Ser Justin's newly found status might allow her to pass them, but the guards sneered at her, without saying a word. All greenlanders thought she and her fellow ironborn were pirates and rapers, and in their eyes were the worst kind of people on their shores.

"Who passes here?" One of the red and white knights said, and stared down at Ser Justin, looking down upon him.

"Ser Justin Massey, good sers." Ser Justin said, introducing himself to the knights, even though Asha assumed all of Stannis's knights and soldiers knew each other by name.

"You cannot pass here, ser."

"Why not?"

"The king had specific instructions to guard this area."

"As one of the king's most loyal knights, I am allowed inside, just to check on how the prince is doing. The king will want to be updated."

"Do you take us for fools?" One of the other knights said, in a bitter tone.

"Of course, not good sers. I would never do such a thing, knowing the king placed your house knights here to protect the prince."

"You are only allowed inside, until we say you come out, but the ironborn filth stays with us."

"The lady Asha is my responsibility. As her escort, she goes everywhere with me."

"Keep a tight leash on her, since she is the king's prize after all."

* * *

Ser Justin led her into the tent, as the curtains opened her nose to the stench of bleeding flesh, which she hoped the maester cleaned up before she came in. The healing hut was not much, as it only had a portly maester dangling his long chain around, whilst cleaning up his station to make sure the infections don't spread through the camp. Asha saw what was in front of her, the prince who was full of life and brazen force was now a living corpse laid out for her to see. She didn't know if he was still alive, after losing the blood he did, being stabbed by the Karstark days ago. She used the trim of her fur cloak to cover her nose from the unbearable stench, but Ser Justin didn't mind it at all.

As a man at war, her champion must have smelt worse than this. Ser Justin was quivering, underneath the guide of a confident knight. Men who feared anything were closer to death than they knew; a lesson Asha learnt as a young reaver on Pyke years ago. She never forgot what her father taught her, as she was the only child he had left, cutting ties with Theon all together, as he was too soft and more greenlander, than ironborn when he came home to them.

" _ **How can he be still alive? The prince looks dead, and if the flowers bloomed in the frozen wasteland of the north, then I would give one to him. The place stinks, no wonder why the horses have perished in the storms with a smell like that coming from the Forrester healing tent. Ser Justin is unfazed by the terrible smell, as a soldier used to bad smells. I could not have gotten in here without my champion, even though those knights outside could do with a leash on their tongues for being rude, without manners, it's how Stannis trains his men."**_

A drawn breath was sounded from the prince's frozen, pale lips, and Ser Justin turned around. He was gleeful, to not have a dead prince or to be next ruled by the little girl, Stannis left behind at the Wall with his lady wife and his red witch. The prince being alive vindicated Asha, and no longer should she bare the guilt of doing something decent. When the sweet green prince wakes up and still hates Asha, she is better off for it, as it will remind her, he is himself, his brittle and hateful self. She stood by Ser Justin, as she knew her champion was willing to defend her against the higher-ranking knights of Stannis. He was risking a lot, all for a chance to further his ambitions in becoming her lord husband in name only.

"How is the prince, maester?" Ser Justin asked, not wanting to know the extent of the prince wounds, but it was formality for him to report to Stannis about his son's recovery.

"The prince's wounds have been healing well, luckily he only lost a small amount of blood and wasn't dead. A strong man, he is. I expect he will awaken soon." The maester replied.

"The king is thankful for what you have done for him."

"It matters not, ser. Prince Jacob has done good for the Forresters, giving us the reparations for what those ghastly Whitehills have done to them."

"The Karstarks responsible have been arrested for their crimes."

"Better safe than sorry, good ser."

Asha couldn't help, but fidget with her fingers. She could not stand still forever, as it bored her not to do something with herself. She knew what the Karstarks did, Stannis will never forgive and will be gleeful in seeing them all executed for their crimes, even the little boys Lord Arnolf brought with him. All children inherit the sins of their parents, even if the children do not know or are ignorant. Asha carried more than the tattered ruins of her father's legacy, but the guilt of her own failure to secure her birthright from her meddling uncles. It was what she deserved for being beaten by a greenlander in single combat, and for allowing her injured leg to be her downfall. The injured leg was fully healed, and she still limped on it, as a memory of what happened in the Wolfswood that day.

The ironborn captain tried to put on a face of not caring, but she could not because she had a hand in the prince still being alive. Asha never saw her brother after the big Umber man took him and the frozen northern girl away, after their short reunion with each other. There was no way, she could ever take Theon home to their mother, as Stannis means to kill him in front of the northmen to gain their support. She was his sister, but never forgot what he was to the rest of the world.

 _A turncloak. A child killer and a traitor to the Young Wolf._

"The maester has done a good job with the prince. He should be a part of the king's retinue, but the Forresters value him well." Ser Justin said, in a low tone.

"Should we stay when he wakes up?" Asha asked.

"I do not know, my lady. The maester will want us out of here, and the knights of Follard will want us on our way."

"Unpleasant, are they?"

"The king likes their diligence to his orders, unlike the failures like Ser Grimm."

"What happened to him?"

"He is just another one of the King's Men now, not so privileged anymore. The king blames him for his son being in this state."

Asha never thought of Ser Sorrell, to her his identity was his association with Prince Jacob and being his sworn shield, but he was dismissed by the king in front of his court. She did not care for him, as he was not ironborn and a southorn from the Reach, who wanted her dead for her nuncle's actions. With the Grimm knight gone, more of Stannis's knights and captains will want to step up to such an important duty, even though the chosen man will be allowed a warmer sleeping area than a cold, damp tent for most knights, and will not have to eat frozen horseflesh for supper and eat something warm from the fires.

The maester was putting his finishing touches onto the prince's original wound, which had gotten smaller through days of working to clean it up. A groan was heard from the prince's frozen form, with his still fingers now moving as a sign of life in him. Ser Justin turned to the prince's now conscious form, and his eyes widened at the sight of the young man's fingers wriggling, as if he had seen a ghost come back from the dead, he had a gleeful smile on his face, as did the maester, who saved his life. Asha had seen plenty of her men wounded before, but she kept all her feelings under the guise of being a leader to her ironborn soldiers. This time it was different, as the man was Stannis's son and a man, who she should hate with every fibre of her being. The nephew of the yoe Robert Baratheon, who ordered her last brother be stolen away from her by greenlanders.

All that mattered now, was the prince was alive and was waking up. Will he remember the Karstark, who almost killed him? Or will he be the same again after being under for so long. The prince's head gave a slight movement, as it indicated he was very much alive and not a lifeless corpse. Asha could give Prince Jacob his due, of surviving death like it was nothing. It must be in his Baratheon blood not to give into death so easily, when he had so much to live for and a throne to see to the end.


End file.
